To Hell and Back
by Kayy716
Summary: Jo-Anna and her brother Kipper grew up with the Curtis boys and their gang of rowdy friends. Their mothers had been close friends and the pair grew up chasing after the guys like one big litter of pups. As they got older and life took a few tragic turns, the two families drifted apart until one fateful night. (Full Summary Inside!)
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **_Jo-Anna and her brother Kipper grew up with the Curtis boys and their gang of rowdy friends. Their mothers had been close friends and the pair grew up chasing after the guys like one big litter of pups. As they got older and life took a few tragic turns, the two families drifted apart until one fateful night landed them to rely on the forever unlocked door that Darry provided to nearly anyone from their side of the tracks. That night changed everything._

* * *

"God help me, Kipper John, keep your feet moving!" I hollered as I sprinted across the empty lot, the sound of car horns drowning out my frantic command. I reached for my kid brother's hand, dragging him with me, his bloodied face once more causing the blood to boil in my veins. "A few more feet," I hissed as I pushed him in the direction of the only safe place I could think of. Within minutes, we reached the only house I knew would provide us a chance to breathe. I shoved my brother up the rickety stairs, silently hoping we could cross the threshold in time. Luck was on our side that night because as soon as I managed to slam the door shut behind me, I heard the familiar squeal of tires against asphalt screech as the ever haunting red corvette sped down the street.

"Well glory, didn't expect to see you here," Dallas Winston, a long-time friend and ally chided. Dallas Winston was the last face I wanted to see as I pushed my kid brother to the floor. He was a true hood, but his heart was good when he knew shit got rough. Dallas Winston was someone I always knew I could rely on.

"Stuff it, Dally," I grunted breathlessly, my hand cupping my brother's face while I took in the damage. "Fucking Socs," I muttered as I brushed his shaggy hair from his face. "You good kid?"

"Right as rain," my brother chirped. "You got 'em in time."

I glanced down at my own wounds and couldn't hush the chuckle that fell from my lips. I was never your typical girl. I was fast on my feet and even faster with my fists. I learned to fight when I was still a kid, a skill that saved me more times than I cared to admit. I was soundly built, especially for a girl on our side of the tracks, though I was stick thin, I had more muscles than half the guys I knew. I carried myself with a permanent scowl and never let the fact I was a girl slow me down, but that never stopped the boys from hootin' and hollerin' like I was some wet whore looking for a quick lay.

"Yeah well, little buddy, next time, maybe don't walk alone?" I scolded gently. I glanced up as Darry Curtis, the oldest of the Curtis clan walked over with a first aid kit in his hands, a grim look on his face.

"Been a while, Kit, where ya been?" he asked softly as he knelt beside me. Me and Darry were only a year apart and at one point went to school together, before I dropped out. I was a cheerleader for a short while when he was on the football team. We hadn't seen much of each other since our high school days. I was too busy taking care of my brother after our mother died.

"Oh, you know how it is," I muttered as I gratefully took the damp cloth he was offering me. I glanced up and saw his younger brother, Sodapop, coming over to kneel next to Kip.

"Glory, you're gonna have a mighty fine shiner tomorrow," he mused as he tilted my brother's head.

"Ain't nothin'," Kip whined. Kipper and Darry's youngest brother, Ponyboy, went to school together. The two, along with Johnny Cade, always seemed to look out for each other and were pretty close, despite the differences in age. Kip was just over thirteen, whereas Ponyboy was fourteen and up a grade with Johnny who was sixteen.

"You're just lucky your big sister was there to save your scrawny ass," Dally laughed from his perch on the sofa. "Hell happened anyhow?"

"Kid got jumped by Socs again," I muttered tiredly. My head was hurting something fierce but my bigger concern was my kid brother. He wasn't lookin' too hot, his normally pale face a bit paler than I'd have liked. "Woulda killed him too, if Tim hadn't given me a heads up to his whereabouts."

"Yeah well," Kip muttered, leaning heavily into Soda who was tending to the gash on his forehead. "I woulda been good if I had my blade."

"Like hell," I spat, pushing myself to my knees so I could glare into his bright blue eyes. "Whatcha gonna do, kiddo? Stab a Soc and get hauled in for life? Not happenin' kid."

"Better than always being their punching bag," he muttered sourly. I knew how he felt. It wasn't fair. Kids like us always got razzled and jumped just cause our folks didn't make the big bucks. It wasn't our fault we were born on the wrong side of the tracks, yet we always seemed to have to take the beatings.

"Next time, call me, I'll get you, savvy? Don't lone it no more." I muttered, the anger in my chest bubbling. My brother was all too stubborn.

"Or call us," Johnny said shyly from where he sat next to Ponyboy, the youngest Curtis brother. "Me and Pony woulda walked with you, right Ponyboy?"

"Sure thing," Pony said with a grin. I think Ponyboy was just as stubborn as my brother was. "Better than takin' it alone."

"See? You kids all gotta use your heads," Darry chided. He was giving me a knowing look. He had his own problems with his two younger brothers not using their heads, especially after their folks died.

"Mind if we crash here?" I asked, my eyes catching the time on the old clock that sat against the far wall. It was well after ten and the last thing on my mind was making the trek back to our house only to have our old man lay into me for having Kip out so late. Our father was no saint, he had no problem throwing hands at me just for breathing the wrong way, but he still wanted and expected us to be obedient and put money on the table. After our mom died when we were still really little, our old man became a vicious booze hound and ever since, I'd been picking up the slack and caring for my brother.

"You know the door's always open," Darry shrugged like it was no big deal. "You guys gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, just need a place to lay low tonight," I nodded, glancing helplessly at my brother who had his eyes half shut, soft moans falling from his lips as Soda finished bandaging the worst of the cuts. "Kip, you sure you're good kid?" I asked worriedly. I'd seen the kid take a beating before, but this was different. He looked mighty young sittin' there.

"Mmm," he managed to hum, his head leaning towards me. I caught it in my hand sighed. _Just what I needed tonight. _I thought sourly.

"C'mon, let's get him on the couch," Soda said softly, hoisting my brother up, his arm slinking under his pit to stabilize him. "He'll be right as rain come morning, Kitten, don't worry."

I nodded my appreciation before walking out the front door, sitting tiredly on the front steps, a weed dangling from my lips. I couldn't help but think back to how I got that nickname all those years ago. My birth name was Jo-Anna Beth Stevenson, yet for the last fifteen or so years, the entire neighborhood took to calling me Kitten. I wasn't sure who started it, but the running joke was that I should wear a bell because I was so soft on my feet, even in a fight. I could get pushed around and beaten down, but I always bounced right back on my feet, earning me to nickname and causing me to have a reputation that I never seemed to live down.

"You good?" Dally's semi-concerned voice shook me from my thoughts. He sat next to me, his eyes studying me quietly. Dally and I weren't exactly close, but he was a constant in my life. He kept an eye out for me when I worked at Buck Merrill's whore house. I'd help him hustle pool, he'd make sure I was alive.

"Yeah," I said softly, my hand trembling slightly against the cool night air. I was clad in only a t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, my coat discarded somewhere between the house and the drive-in where I had found my brother. "Just tired of it all," I finally said truthfully.

"The fightin'?" Dally asked quizzically. He knew me better than most and knew I lived for the high a rumble could bring.

"Naw," I shook my head, taking a long drag off the weed that was still trembling in my hand. "Bein' the parent."

"Your ol' man still beatin' on you?" Dally mused. It felt strange having this conversation with Dallas Winston of all people. He wasn't a touchy-feely type and didn't care about anyone, except maybe Johnny.

"Yeah," I nodded. "But it's worse for the kid. He ain't remember how things were before Ma died, so he only knows our Pops as an angry drunk. Scares me something fierce to think he'll wind up like you or Tim one day."

"Golly, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me there Kitten," Dally laughed. "You know Darry'll let you lay over till things cool off, right?"

"Ain't puttin' him out," I shrugged. "'sides, Kip hasta learn to use that head of his. I won't always be there to save his scrawny ass."

"Spoken like a true Greaser," Dally chuckled. "C'mon, you're gonna get sick sittin' out here like that."

"Shove it," I muttered, rubbing my hands over my arms. I pulled another weed from my pack and lit it, letting the smoke easy the tension in my back. "Thought you got hauled in again?"

"Shoot, they can't keep me locked up forever," Dally grinned like a chessy cat. His eyes danced as he thought back to his latest shenanigans. Dally was always getting hauled in for one thing or another.

I laughed at the shit-eating-grin he wore, shaking my head slightly. Dallas Winston was a mean, cold JD, but he was also someone you wanted in your corner. We had a mutual respect for each other and I was one of the very few girls he didn't try to mess with. Dallas Winston was a pig, he was always trying to find a cheap broad to lay up with, but he never, ever made a move on me and for that, I was grateful. I barely noticed when he got up and walked down the street, leaving me with my thoughts.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed, but I blew through nearly a whole pack of cigarettes before I felt something warm wrap around my shoulders. I looked up to find Darry standing behind me, his hands on my shoulders as he wrapped a thick afghan around me, his eyebrows furrowed with concern.

"You tryin' to freeze to death out here?" he scolded as he lowered himself onto the step beside me. "Your lips are blue."

"S'fine," I said stubbornly. Darry looked so much older than I remembered. His features were drawn with worry. I knew he'd been working mighty hard to keep his two kid brothers under his roof, taking on more work than any man his age should have to. Darry was one of the strongest people I knew.

"C'mon, Jo, I've known you since we were little tykes," he said softly He wasn't wrong. We'd practically grown up under the same roof before my mother died. We stayed close through it all, only drifting after his own parents were killed in a car accident and he had to step up and become man of the house. With us both working insanely long hours, we sort of lost touch for a while. "You ain't gotta hide no more. I know we ain't as close as before, but you know you're safe here. My doors always open and Pony is awfully fond of your brother. Y'all are more than welcomed to stay s'long as you need."

"That's mighty kind of you, Darry, but you know the ropes, we'll be movin' on in the morning. Permittin' that kid can walk," I said stubbornly.

"Jo, c'mon," Darry said softly. I could tell he was worried. I didn't want to be another burden he carried on his shoulders. I nodded my thanks and slowly pushed myself to my feet, overly aware of how stiff my bones felt. My head felt groggy as I pushed open the door and slumped over to the couch where my brother was soundly sleeping, a worried Sodapop looking down at him.

"He okay?" I asked, my body swaying slightly.

"Think he's got a good goose egg formin'," Soda informed me, looking up. His eyes widened when he saw me. "Glory, Kit, sit yourself down 'fore you fall flat," he said quickly, hurrying to steady me. He slowly lowered me onto the floor, his hand tenderly brushing against my forehead. "Stop worry'n about that brother of yours, we've got 'im now, you take care of yourself."

"Right as rain," I murmured as my vision slipped.

"Pops gave her a good lickin' earlier," I vaguely registered my brother say. "Got her good upside the head. Then with her jumpin' in to save me…Soda, she's okay, right?"

"Right as rain," I murmured again, this time as my knees gave way and I felt Soda's grip tighten.

* * *

When I woke next, I wasn't the least bit surprised to find myself wrapped tightly in a blanket, my brother's hand resting on my arm as our legs were tangled up on the sofa. I groaned and rolled over, carefully untangling my legs as I stood, stretching the stiffness out of my back.

"Gave us a scare there, Kit," Two-Bit's voice chimed from his perch on the armchair. "That brother of yours wouldn't stop blubbering 'till Darry promised him you were okay."

"I'm always okay," I grumbled as I nudged my brother's foot, startling him awake. The bruising around his eyes had intensified overnight but the bitter scowl he wore let me know he was fine.

"Up and at 'em Kip, it's morning," I said softly as I brushed a stray strand of hair from his face. "You've got school and I'm already late for work."

"Do I gotta?" he asked tiredly.

"Yes," I said sternly. I heard voices in the kitchen and soon the smell of freshly brewed coffee hit my nose. "C'mon, get up."

"Mmm," he groaned. I smiled softly before turning towards the kitchen.

"Glory, you look like hell," Steve snorted from his spot against the wall. "Ol' man again?" I shrugged Steve off. We both had piss poor home lives but rarely ever talked about it.

"Socs' got Kip," I said shortly as I wandered over to the cupboard and helped myself to a mug. I poured a cup of coffee, leaning heavily against the counter, trying to figure out how I'd retrieve my uniform for the diner from my house.

"You workin' today?" Soda asked as he ruffled Ponyboy's hair, causing the younger of the two to grimace.

"Unfortunately," I mussed. "Gotta hit the house first, need my shit," I added as an afterthought.

"I'll give ya a lift," Steve said with a shrug. "Heading that way before school anyhow."

"Thanks," I nodded my appreciation. Soda gave Steve a sideways look. He knew we weren't exactly the closest, but he also knew that Steve was pretty solid when it came to helping me out.

"Which job today?" Soda asked curiously. I could tell his eyes were tracing the cuts and bruises on my face.

"Diner," I shrugged. S'long as I caked on enough makeup, no one would be the wiser to the fight the night before.

"You workin' the bar later too?" Steve asked quizzically. Steve normally gave me a lift home if Dally was busy when I worked at the whorehouse. We both knew it was a shitty job but the tips made it worth the shit I put up with. Besides, I was Buck's best barmaid.

"Yeah, back to back," I nodded tiredly. I normally had a few hours between my shift at the diner and my shift at Buck's, but that week I was working a solid 18 hours straight between the two most days. With our old man's car in the shop and me footin' the bill, I needed every penny I could scrape up.

"You work too much," my brother pipped up as he wandered into the kitchen, stealing a piece of toast off Ponyboy's plate, earning him a sideways look from his friend. "Can't you take a day off? You're lookin' awfully rough."

"All work and no play leads a man to an early grave," Two-Bit stated. I gave him a harsh glare before looking at my brother.

"Someone's gotta keep the lights on," I shrugged. "Besides, if I ever want to get my hands on a car that actually runs, I need every cent I can."

"Yeah well, what good's a car if you're dead?" he retorted.

"Drop it, Kipper, now go on, get dressed, school. You crashin' here again tonight or should I expect to find you back at our house?"

"Dunno, depends I guess," Kip shrugged, rubbing his hand through his hair. I knew he didn't want to go home anymore than I did.

"The couch is yours, kiddo," Soda said with that movie star smile of his. "He'll be here with Ponyboy," he added, giving me a knowing look.

"I'm off tomorrow, so we'll deal with everything else then, savvy?" I gave my brother the all too familiar look to let him know we couldn't hide out forever.

"Savvy," he nodded. "Hey Kit?"

"Sup kid?" I turned back to him, taking a sip of my coffee.

"Think Pops is ever gonna lay off?" he asked innocently.

"Glory kid, I sure hope so," I said as I turned back to put my cup in the sink before giving Steve a nod. "Use your head, Kipper, I'll see you tonight."

With that, I followed Steve out the back door. I knew I was in for a long day and somehow, the grim weather seemed to match my mood perfectly.

* * *

_A/n: I always said I was done writing The Outsiders fics, but here I am, years later, excited to bring you all one more little saga before I finally call it quits. While it will follow most of the major canon scenes, I'm not following canon completely, so keep that in mind. That being said, Jo and Kip's involvement with the gang changes some major events, though as stated, a lot of it will remain the same. This takes place just before the whole incident with Darry and Ponyboy. _


	2. Chapter 2

_A/n: Small note, if you haven't watched The Outsiders: Complete Novel, I urge you to do so! Best 2 hours of my life and definitely reminded me of all the reasons I adore the Outsiders as much as I do!_

* * *

Steve had to work in the morning and Dally didn't have Buck's T-Bird that night so I was left to lone it back to the Curtis' house. It was well after four in the morning, so I figured I was good to get there in one piece. Even though we lived on the worst side of town, the mask of darkness was normally enough to keep us safe. It certainly wasn't the first time I had to lone it so late at night.

Little did I know that my ol' man had been trailing me. Had I known, I would have called for backup and waited for someone to give me a lift. It happened so fast, I didn't have time to use my head, something I was constantly on my brother's ass about.

I heard the screech of tires before I registered what was happening. Maybe it was exhaustion taking over, or maybe I had just been too cocky to think I could lone it without a problem, but one second I'm walking lost in my own head, the next something is colliding with my temple, leaving me seeing stars.

"That's for runnin' away like a kicked pup," the ever familiar voice of my father broke through the grogginess. I wheeled around, my fist colliding with his jaw. He had a good hundred pounds on me and landed me on my ass quickly, taking advantage of the weakened state I was in. I felt blow after blow as he beat the day lights out of me, before kicking my painfully in the side with his steel-toed boots. I managed to roll away, getting a few good blows in myself, before I felt my muscles start to seize up with exhaustion. Another round of blows before he lifted me up, throwing a solid kick to my gut before climbing back into the rundown truck, leaving me doubled over, my vision blurred, blood seeping from more places than I could count. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my mind but it was hopeless, the pain was just too much.

I groaned and rolled over, hugging my knees to my chest, sure I was going to die right there and then. Every breath was agony, the taste of rust in my mouth letting me know I was hurt worse than ever. The spinning before my eyes and the ache in my head caused me to roll over, forcing myself to sit up painfully, taking in the extent of the damage.

I'd been in a lot of rumbles in my life. I was fast on my feet and even faster with my fists but that night, my father had taken me by surprise, something I should have saw coming but didn't. My hands were riddled with cuts, my right wrist swollen up like a balloon. But the adrenalin kicked in in time to get me back to my feet, every inch of my body protesting. I stumbled a few feet over till I found a dark ally and slumped to the ground, my vision clouding. I could only pray that someone would come by. I wasn't sure how long I'd have to wait for my prayers to be answered, but I knew eventually someone would come looking. I took the same path home whenever I had to lone it, so I knew someone would figure it out. That was the only thing that kept me from giving into the darkness that began to cloud my vision. Knowing that I'd have to make some kinda noise to let 'em know where I was.

My breathing was ragged when I finally heard voice approaching. I tried to listen to see if it was anyone familiar, but my head was a mess and all I could make out was the painful breaths I was taking. A few moments passed before I saw a shadow approach. I recoiled, suddenly terrified that he had come back to finish the job. I tried to raise my hands in protest but they fell lifelessly to my sides, every single breath pure agony.

"She's over here, I got her," a panicked voice called out. The thunder of footsteps made my head ache even worst.

"Glory, is she even alive?" a different voice barked. I felt hands touch my face and flinched back, my breathing hitching as I tried to fight back.

"Easy Jo, it's me, I've got you, you're okay," the voice said softly. "Get over here man, she's bad, real bad," he said to someone else. "Stay with me Jo, I've got you now, no one's gonna hurt you."

The rest seemed to happen so quickly, or maybe it was just the haze that filled my head. One second I was sitting in the dark ally, the next, I was being picked up by a strong set of arms, listening to someone vaguely bark orders to someone else. I tried to open my eyes, but the pain was unbearable. I cried out, thrashing in the arms of whoever was carrying.

"Easy Jo, I've got you," the voice said as calmly as it could. "You're safe now. I've got you."

"Darry?" I asked dumbly. I wasn't sure. I didn't know who had me. I tried to open my eyes again, but as soon as they were open a crack, I saw stars.

"Yeah, I've got you now, you're safe," he said gently. I heard a car door open and flinched, leaning heavily into Darry's chest. I felt him sit me down before closing the door carefully. Someone warm was beside me, my head resting softly on their shoulder.

"She's bad Darry," I heard a voice say softly as soft hands lifted my head. I opened my eyes a crack and saw Soda holding onto me for dear life. I groaned softly as he tilted my head to get a better look, a wave of nausea hitting me like a ton of bricks.

"Gon…be…sick," I managed to whisper. I heard a slight commotion before someone slid me over, holding onto my head gently as I heaved over the side of the truck. I groaned, every single muscle in my body screaming as the heaving continued.

"We gotta get her to the hospital," Soda stated, his voice shaking. "Is that blood?"

I heaved again, then the coughing came. Each breath a strangled struggle as I tried to regain control. It was useless. I couldn't catch my breath. Then it all went black.

* * *

It seemed like a lifetime of endless nightmares before I was finally strong enough to open my eyes again. When I did, I nearly jumped out of my skin when I realized I was in an unfamiliar place. Panic set in and as soon as it did, a sudden beeping seemed to alert anyone and everyone around.

"Easy, easy sissy, you're safe," my brother's gentle voice purred as I felt him pet my head. "Gave us a good scare, but you're safe now."

"Kip?" I managed to squeak out, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm here," he said softly, coming closer to my face so he could tilt my head. My eyes locked on his for a moment before I slowly pushed myself to sit up. The room tilted a bit before my eyes refocused, this time locking on the tired faces of my friends.

"Glory, Kitten, tryin' to scare us to death?" Soda said worriedly. "Thought you were gonna die in my arms."

"Sorry," I managed to whisper. "I'm okay."

"He did a number on you…Dally got Tim and company to get 'im back for it," Steve informed me. "I ain't never seen you lose a fight, the hell happened?"

"Why were you loning it in the first place?" Two-Bit asked bitterly. "I woulda swung by and got you, you know that."

"Too many questions," I murmured as I sank back.

"Alright boys, let her get some rest," a different voice ordered. I nodded gratefully before letting sleep overcome me again.

* * *

It took about a week for me to finally recover enough to be discharged from the hospital, and even then, they only released me because Darry insisted that my brother and I were going to be staying with him. They had a spare bedroom that once belonged to him before he took over his late parent's bedroom after their death.

It was late when I finally looked up from my brother's homework, having spent the majority of the night reading over the paper he had for history.

"Hey Ponyboy?" I called over my shoulder. Pony was sitting at the kitchen table helping Kipper with his math, the one subject I had zero idea how to help with.

"You okay?" they both looked up from the textbook that was spread out between them.

"What's _bourgeoisie_ mean?" I asked, struggling to sound out the word, much less remember what the hell it meant.

"Pretty sure you said that wrong," Darry chuckled from where he was reading the newspaper. He came to sit next to me, taking the notebook from my lap. "They teaching you about the second world war already?" he asked looking towards Kip. Kipper was a grade under Ponyboy.

"Sorta," he answered, coming over to snatch his notebook from Darry, his ears reddening. Kip was self-conscious about his writing. "We had to pick a war to write about and I didn't wanna talk about the Vietnam War like everyone else is."

I nodded my approval. With so many of our boys being drafted, we rarely, if ever, talked about the war raging over seas.

"But to answer your question, _bourgeoisie_ is sorta like Greaser. It's the middle class," he shrugged. I dunno, I thought it sounded better like a cool word to use.

"In that case you used it in the wrong context," Darry chided gently, pointing to the sentence my brother had used it in.

Kip grumbled and sulked back to the table with his notebook clutched in his hands. He was a smart kid, always blowing me away with his big words and good grades, but he was shy about anyone looking over his homework.

"How's that math going?" I asked, turning back to the table.

"You wanna check that too?" Kip groaned.

"You missed almost two weeks kiddo, can't be making Pony fall behind helping you," I reminded him gently. He bowed his head and walked his math homework over to me. I groaned when I realized I had absolutely no idea if his answers were right or not.

"I'll check it," Darry offered, seeing my frustration. "How's your head?"

"I'm fine, Darrel," I said, my tone harsher than I meant. Ever since I was released from the hospital, he was hovering. It was getting old.

Darry scowled but didn't say anything. He turned his attention back to the math in his lap while I slowly shoved myself off the couch, my side aching from the bruised ribs. My right wrist was still wrapped in a thick bandage and I was still being ordered not to work for another day or two, but other than that, I was right as rain and feeling restless.

I walked into the kitchen and busied myself with the dishes that were left from dinner. I didn't realize I was swaying until I felt someone lay a hand on my shoulder.

"He said go slow," Soda said softly. I hadn't even heard him come in. "You're still recovering."

"I'm tired of recovering," I muttered as I turned slowly, my lower back resting against the sink. "I actually _miss_ working. Besides, I can't keep putting you all out."

"The room's yours, Jo-Anna," Darry's voice traveled from where he sat on the couch. He had just finished checking over Kip's homework and was now looking over Pony's. "You and Kip are staying, end of story."

"And when someone calls state, whatcha gonna tell 'em? That you're running a halfway house for the fuck ups of our good city?" I grumbled. I wasn't good at accepting help. I hated handouts. That was the one area where me and Darry were equally stubborn. If that tables were turned, he'd be pitching a fit too.

He looked up from the paper in his lap, his brow furrowing. I hit him where it hurt. As soon as I saw Soda throw a helpless look at his brother, I felt awful.

"Aw, shoot, I'm sorry," I murmured. My head started to ache as I crossed the distance between the kitchen and living room and knelt in front of him, my side aching something fierce from the movement. I ignored the pain and rested my hand on his knee. "I love you for everything you and your brother are doing for us. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Darry nodded, giving me a slight smile. He knew asking for help wasn't easy for me. "You're a bit pale, you okay?" he asked suddenly, his tone guarded. I nodded slowly before I wished I hadn't. His face suddenly tilted in front of me.

"Kitten?" I heard my brother's voice cry out as I fell back heavily, narrowly avoiding hitting my head on the coffee table. "Kit!"

I felt hands grabbing at me, poking and prodding, until I finally shoved them away, my head groggy, but no more than a wicked headache taking over.

"I'm fine," I grumbled as I pushed myself to my feet, the bitterness of being taken care of taking its toll.

"She sure is fiery that one," Soda chided as I closed the bathroom door behind me. I leaned against it heavily, letting the dizziness fade as quickly as it came. I splashed some cold water on my face before flushing the toilet for good measure. When I walked back into the living room, I wasn't the least bit surprised to see the three Curtis brothers huddled around Kipper, their voices hushed as they talked to one another.

"I'm fine, savvy?" I muttered softly as I nudged my way between my brother and Soda, who threw me a helpless look.

"You best be," my brother said smoothly. "I need you, sis. We all do."

Little did I know, that soon enough, my brother's words would hold so much more meaning than I ever could have anticipated.


	3. Chapter 3

After two more days of sitting around the house doing nothing, I was finally healthy enough to return to work. Being the same stubborn person I was a couple weeks prior, I jumped back into the same routine without really taking much time to care nor consider if my body was up for it. I was working long hours at the Dingo, the rough diner I'd worked at for the majority of my life before heading across town to work at Buck's Road House, despite everyone telling me to cut back on my hours at both. The whorehouse was just as busy as it always was, but I wasn't worried, I was used to the chaos that went on there. The only thing that seemed to change was how closely Tim and Dally watched me whenever I was working the bar. The days and nights began to bleed together as I fell back into the endless routine that seemed to always be my life.

It was late one warm fall night when I finally made it home after working nearly 18 hours straight. The only thought on my mind was a hot shower and a warm pillow. We were still staying at Darry's – which I felt less guilty about now that I was helping with the bills. I managed to catch the time as I climbed out of Tim's rust bucket. He had insisted on giving me a lift that night.

I slowly walked up the stairs before quietly opening and closing the front door. It was well after two in the morning and I knew Soda and Darry had to work in the morning.

"Sure missed a good scrap earlier," a voice nearly scared me outta my skin.

"Whatcha talking about?" I asked, flipping the lamp on. Steve was laying on the couch, a smile playing on his lips.

"Kid got himself jumped by Socs. We got there in time. Tried to give him a haircut," Steve shrugged.

"My kid?" I asked, glancing towards the back of the house. Surely someone would have told me if my kid brother got into a tangle.

"Naw. Ponyboy," Steve said with a yawn. "Didn't use his head. Was lonin' it without a blade."

"Those damn boys," I shook my head as I let my hair out of the messy bun it was in. "Both of 'em gotta use their damn heads. He's okay though, right?" I asked as I walked into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water.

"Yeah, just a little shook," Steve shrugged. "Serves him right."

I thought about Steve's comment. It really wasn't fair that those kids couldn't walk alone without the fear of being jumped. Ponyboy was fourteen. He shouldn't have to worry about walking on his lonesome. It made me think back to when I was fourteen and how my quick feet always seemed to keep me out of trouble when I decided to go off on my own. Unlike Ponyboy and Kipper though, I wasn't always a target to get jumped. I was a target for worse problems. I shuddered at the memories before swallowing the glass of water quickly. The cool liquid eased the knots in my stomach. I let the glass sit on the counter before flipping the light back off and barely finding the energy to drag my feet down the hall to the small room my brother and I now shared. I shoved open the door and sighed at the pile of dirty laundry against the wall. Kip was curled in a tight ball in the middle of the bed again, taking up most of the space the small twin bed had to offer. I groaned as I sat heavily on the floor, my head resting against the floral wallpaper, my eyes heavy with sleep.

What seemed like only a short time later, a shrill cry woke me from my painfully short sleep. I jerked awake, my legs quickly tangling with Kip's as he jumped out of the bed. He ran face first into Darry as the three of us tried to make it to the only other bedroom the sound could be coming from. The three of us pushed our way into the doorway of Soda and Pony's room, only to find Soda trying to comfort his thrashing brother.

"Another nightmare?" I asked, pulling Kip to my side so Darry could pass. We all knew about Pony's nightmares.

"Go back to sleep," Darry ordered gently. "We've got this."

I nodded my head tiredly and ushered my brother back to the bedroom. He slumped onto the bed and was sound asleep before his head even hit the pillow. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand and sighed when I saw the time. It was nearly four in the morning and at that point, I knew sleep was pointless. I had to be at the diner by 6 to open, so rather than go back to sleep, I busied myself with grabbing as many pieces of dirty laundry as I could carry. I tossed them into the hamper in the hall before nudging into Darry's room to retrieve his dirty laundry. I grabbed the damp towels from the bathroom floor and picked up stray pieces of discarded laundry as I made my way through the house. After tossing a load into the washing machine, I went about starting a pot of coffee.

"You should sleep," a voice nearly scared me out of my skin for the second time that night. "When's the last time you got more than 2 hours of sleep?" It was Soda. He was clad in only a pair of shorts, his sandy blonde hair flopping carelessly over his face.

"Speak for yourself," I chided. "Nice hair."

That earned me a chuckle from him before he came over and began rubbing at the knots in my shoulders. Soda could put anyone to sleep with one of his massages.

"Mmm, Soda, stop, I gotta get to work in a bit," I purred. His hands felt like heaven on the tight muscles that never seemed to stop aching.

"Quit your whining," Soda said gently as his fingers pressed deeper into my muscles. I groaned with appreciation as I felt the muscles begin to relax. He hit a spot between my shoulders and I felt my head grow warm and fuzzy with relief. Before I could stop myself, my head was falling to my hands, sleep overtaking me yet again.

* * *

"Rise and shine, Kit," my brother's chipper voice woke me way too soon. "Your boss won't stop ringing."

"What time is it?" I mumbled. I lifted my head and realized I was now asleep on the couch. Someone must have moved me. The last thing I remembered was Soda working the knots out of my shoulders.

"It's after eight," Kip responded. "I think Darry took care of your boss though, reckon he said you were sick."

"Glory, guys, I can't keep missin' work," I mumbled, struggling to get to my feet.

"Yeah well, you ain't no good to us dead," Darry grumbled from where he sat at the kitchen table. "Figured you could use the sleep."

"Sleep's for the weak," I mumbled as I hurried to find my uniform in the pile of half dried clothes that was sitting beside the washer. I quickly changed, not caring that the damp fabric sent shivers down my spine.

"Kit, you work too hard," my brother whined as he handed me a cup of coffee. I let the heavenly scent fill my senses before giving him a playful shove out of the way.

"You ain't woofin' kid, but someone's gotta make sure money keeps comin' in, ya dig?" I said sternly. "We ain't freeloaders, I'm not lettin' Darry and Soda work themselves to the bone on our accord."

"They work hard anyway," Kip whined. "Can't you miss one day?"

"Not happenin' buddy. Besides, Steve said if I can score the cash, they're an old pick up that's been abandoned at the DX for weeks, should be able to get the title as soon as I got cash in hand," I said with a sly grin.

"No more lonin' it?" Kip's face lit up. He was always worried about me working long, late hours.

"Exactly," I nodded. "Now shoo, aren't you late for school?" I asked him tiredly.

"It's Saturday," Kip replied quizzically. "Why do you think Darry's still here?"

"Oh," I rubbed my hand over my face and chuckled inwardly. My days had all been blurring together.

"See? You need sleep," Kip howled as he shoved me towards the kitchen. I ruffled his hair with my free hand before downing the last of the coffee before he could knock the cup from my hand.

"I'll sleep when I'm dead, kiddo," I laughed as I scooped him up and flipped him over my shoulder. "You keep your nose clean today, savvy?"

"Put me down," he whined as he struggled against my grip.

"Not till you swear!" I chided. He wiggled some more before finally nodding his head.

"I'm goin' out with Pony, Johnny and Dally. Now put me down!" he whined. I swung him off my shoulder and gave him a stern look.

"I expect you to follow the same rules Darry has for Pony, kay?" I said quickly. I straightened my skirt before giving my brother a swift hug. "I'm pretty sure I'll be home around 2…maybe 3. Don't wait up, Steve's loanin' me his car so I ain't walkin' tonight."

"Good," Kip said with a smile.

I looked around the kitchen, smiling at the gang of boys who seemed to always be a family to me. Darry was wearing an unimpressed expression while he read the newspaper. Pony had his nose in a book. Soda was dancing around the kitchen like a fool, his movie-star smile reminding me that even in the dark, there's a ray of sunshine. Kip had hurried off to fix his hair. In the living room, Two-Bit was watching some cartoon on TV while Johnny was sitting on the couch staring silently towards the window. I knew Steve was working at the DX and Dally was off somewhere, probably at Buck's like he usually was. To me, in that moment, my life felt just right. I may have been one of the only girls dumb enough to run with the boys, but I held my own in a rumble and I was just as tough as they were. The smile I wore lasted as I hurried out the front door, grateful that Steve had left his car parked behind Darry's truck. I climbed in and for the first time in a long time, I wasn't dreading work. I was grateful. And that made the exhaustion seem to melt away, the cool autumn breeze waking me from my grogginess and leaving my heart warm and filled with contentment. Just for a moment, I felt like I was the richest woman alive.


	4. Chapter 4

I only worked at the Dingo until 4 that afternoon. Thankfully, my boss was understanding with me starting late and was even more understanding when he decided to cut me loose a little earlier than normal. I regularly worked until 8, but he saw the exhaustion creeping up in my face long before I felt the tiredness start to kick in. He told me to take off and get some sleep before I even had a chance to argue with him.

Normally, I would have fought my way into getting more hours, but that night, I was just too tired to care. Instead, I parked in front of Buck's and slept in Steve's car until my shift was the roadhouse was due to start at 8:30. Even though the car was small and cramped in comparison to the countless other places I have sought out for sleep in the past, I slept restlessly and managed to sleep off the nagging headache that had formed behind my eyes. By the time Buck banged on the window to let me know it was time to move my ass, the ache had dulled and I felt like I had just enough energy to make it through the long shift.

"Glory, you sleepin' at all Kit?" he asked as he slid me a shot of whiskey, my go to for a late night pick me up. "You look like shit."

"Well golly, Buck, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me!" I cheered, throwing back the shot. The amber liquid slid down my throat smoothly, but the burn in my belly let me know that maybe he was right.

"Seriously, Kitten, can't have you fallin' over 'round here. Why not take the night off?" he said, scrubbing his hand over his face. Hank Williams blared over the record player, making my headache intensify almost immediately. I groaned and poured myself another shot, grateful that the whiskey seemed to dull the ringing in my ears.

"Kit," Buck's voice was now stern.

"Lemme work till 2. I'll leave then," I said tiredly. "C'mon Buck, you know I need the cash."

"Your funeral," he muttered as he turned the volume up even louder, causing me to groan as I made my rounds, pouring drinks, wiping tables, and slapping at hands that were all too grabby. The night seemed to drag on, and by the time the last of the nightly rush seemed to file out, it was well after 3 in the morning.

"Guess it's good you stayed," Buck murmured as he handed me my cut of the tips. It wasn't much, but it would definitely get me through another week.

"Always is, Buck," I nodded to myself, letting my hair down from the messy bun it was in. I waved my goodbyes before quickly making my way out to Steve's car. I hesitated, wondering if I was better off just crashing in the backseat. My head ached something fierce and I wasn't entirely sure if I felt like driving. I was thinking about it for a while before I finally turned the car around and sped down the road, hoping to get back to the Curtis' house in time to get some shuteye before everyone else woke up.

"Pony?" an urgent voice cried as soon as I opened the front door.

"No, it's me," I called, letting my shoes lay carelessly by the armchair. "The boys aren't home yet?" I felt worry bubble in my chest. Kipper knew he was to be in no later than midnight, no matter what the excuse.

"Darry…Darry hit Ponyboy," Soda's soft, teary voice explained from the couch. "Him and Kip came home late…real late and Darry…" Soda broke down in tears.

"They can't have gone too far," I mused. I didn't see them when I was driving back. "I'll drive 'round and try to find them?"

"They'll come home," Steve said matter-of-factly from where he stood by the window. "No point searching the whole city for 'em this late. They prolly holed up somewhere."

"Kip don't just hole up," I muttered, running my hand through my hair. Glory, my head ached. "But I reckon Steve's right," I looked at Darry with a sympathetic smile. "They'll come home, right as rain in the morning."

"I-I…" Darry looked down at his hand, his eyes glossing over. One thing about Darry is he never cries. I couldn't remember the last time I saw him shed a tear.

"Hey, shush, he's gonna forgive you, he's gonna come home, I swear on it, cross my heart. He's just hacked off is all. Kipper'll keep his nose clean. You'll see," I reassured him gently, my hand on his shoulder. "Now, ain't no point in stressin' yourself sick over it right now. I'm sure they'll be home bright and early."

"How are you so calm about this? Your kid brother ran off with him too," Darry grumbled.

"Well, Darry, if I ain't learned anything else since my Ma died, it's that boys will be boys and sometimes _my_ kid brother don't use his head, just like every other kid brother I know," I said gently. "'sides, to be fair, every one of us split at one time or 'nother. If we went on chasing tails every time someone laid low, we'd be on the run constantly."

"She's gotta point," Steve said softly. He was watching us from his spot by the window.

"Everyone try to get some shut eye, if they ain't back by sun up, we'll split up and find them, deal?"

No one objected and I, for once, was grateful to fall asleep in the bed my brother and I shared, instead of ending up on the floor. Exhaustion took over quickly and I relished in the thought of getting some shut eye before what I was certain would be a very long, trying day.

* * *

"You see this?" Two-Bit's urgent voice woke me out of a dead sleep. I looked up, overly aware that he was slamming the newspaper into my chest the second I sat up.

"Glory, hell hath froze over! Two-Bit got the paper!" I chided, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"No, Kit, read!" Two-Bit said urgently. I groaned and quickly scanned the paper, my eyes widening like saucers when I read the article over and over, trying to comprehend what I was reading.

"God damn it kid brother," I murmured as I slowly stood up, pulling the thin blanket around my body as I hurried into the kitchen, slapping the paper down in front of Darry. Darry didn't look at it. He must have read it first.

"Coffee?" Steve asked, throwing me a worried look. He was standing next to Soda who looked ready to completely fall apart.

"Yeah," I nodded, pulling the blanket tighter around me. "Then I'm hunting down dear old dad of mine and see if he's caught wind yet. If not, then Dally's gonna be gettin' a rude awakening."

"Think they went to your ol' man?" Soda asked hopefully.

"They killed a kid. If any adult's gonna get 'em outta it, it's my ol' man," I muttered sourly. While my father was an awful, abusive man, he had people on the inside who could hide just about anyone. Besides Dally, my father was probably the best person on the whole east side of Tulsa.

"They…" Soda looked like he was gonna be sick. I saw his legs sag and hurried to his side. Between me and Steve, we managed to keep him upright. "they…" Soda's face turned a sickly shade of green. He doubled over, his body trembling as his sides heaved.

"I'm not cleaning that up," Steve grunted as he rubbed his best friend's back. I braced my one leg so I was still holding Soda semi-upright and reached for the towel behind me with the other.

"Get 'im on the couch," I instructed Steve as I pressed the towel to Soda's mouth, wiping away the mess. "I've got this."

Darry looked troubled as he watched me clean up the mess, my hands shaking ever so slightly as I made quick work of it. I didn't bother rinsing the towel, instead throwing it into the garbage can, my nose crinkling.

"You're such a mom," Two-Bit tried to joke, but his smile didn't reach his eyes.

"I'm a sister," I said with a shrug. "Get him some aspirin would ya?" I added as I turned to fill a glass of water.

"We're…we're gonna find them, right?" Darry asked, his eyes once more glossing over. I turned and studied him. He looked so much older than twenty. His shoulders sagged as he looked down at his hands. "I…this is all my fault."

"Aww, shoot Darry, no it ain't. If they _really_ did kill that Soc, I'm willin' to bet they had a damn good reason. Kip's good in a fight but he's no killer. Neither is Ponyboy or Johnny. Those three are the gentlest greasers I know. Somethin' ain't right about all this, and none of it's on you," I said sternly. "Shoot, everyone gets hit by their folks."

As soon as the words left my lips I regretted them. The Curtis boys were the lucky ones. Their folks never raised a hand to any of them. _That's_ why Ponyboy ran. _That's_ why Kip followed. Growing up, we all knew the Curtis house was the one house we didn't need to worry about gettin' a lickin' at.

"Geez…Darry, I'm sorry," I muttered.

* * *

The day went by in a blur. Neither Soda or Darry were up for working, so I made it a point to keep my ears on the ground while I worked at the Dingo that morning, asking anyone who came in if they'd seen the trio. When 6 rolled around, I made my way back to my childhood home, not the least bit surprised to see the old rundown truck sitting in the drive way. I parked Steve's car behind it before carefully making my way up the sidewalk, not entirely ready to face the wrath of my old man.

"Pops? You home?" I called as I let myself in. The house was dark and messy, much like it always was. There was trash everywhere, the smell of stale booze hitting my nose as I neared the kitchen.

"Sounds like that brother of yours got himself in a mighty fine bind, huh?" he asked as he looked up from the paper in front of him. For once, he didn't look as angry as he usually did. "Your Ma's rollin' in her grave at the thought of her precious baby boy being caught up in a murder rep."

"You see him?" I asked as I slid the chair across from my father back and sat down. "Figured they'd try to come to you for an alibi."

"Shoot, if they'd come to me I woulda knocked their heads together," my father scoffed. "I ain't seen 'em. Surprised you even showed face 'round here."

"Pops, they're just kids," I tried to reason. "If you hear anything, let me know, ya dig?"

"Shoot, I'm layin' low Kitty," he said softly. I could see a glimpse of the broken man that was once my father. He hadn't called me Kitty since my mother died. "I'm tired of it all."

"You and me both," I snorted. "Seriously, Pops, if they come your way, send 'em home, would ya?"

"Home," my father's eyes glazed over. For a split moment, I thought he was going to cry. But just as the sorrow seemed to take over, the flash of anger returned. "You ain't got no home, Jo-Anna Beth. Not here no way," he shoved his chair back, his hands balling into fists. "You're just like that boyfriend of yours, a no good hood!"

I blinked quickly, shoving my own chair back, dancing on the balls of my feet, bracing myself for the blows I knew were surely coming. _Boyfriend? _I thought. _What boyfriend?_

I managed to duck out of the way of my father's first blow, but he landed his second, knocking my back against the countertop. I saw red but knew I had more important things to do than fight with my ol' man. I let him get a few good slugs in before I used my smaller size to my advantage and leapt over the kitchen table and skidded out the back door. I knew I'd have a shiner for sure, but I wasn't too bad off. I quickly jumped into Steve's car, slamming the door harder than intended before making a quick getaway.

Breathing heavily, I made it to Buck's in time to see Two-Bit's Buick pulling out. I honked and waved at them to pull over. Apparently the sight of my face was enough to get Steve to pay attention because as soon as I slid out of his car, his first instinct was to check it over for damages.

"Wasn't in the car," I informed him as I leaned against the hood of it. Steve looked up and nodded, before coming beside me, his fingers tenderly inspecting the bruised cheek and busted lip.

"What happened?" he asked. Soda looked furious beside him, a purple sweatshirt clutched in his fist. I brushed off Steve's question, turning my attention to the piece of clothing.

"That's Pony's right?" I asked coolly. Soda nodded, his eyes ablaze. "Asshole wouldn't tell me where they are."

"Who?" I looked around for an explanation.

"Dally," Two-Bit sighed. "He knows where they're holed up but won't spill."

"Just you wait," I grumbled. I'd get it out of Dally one way or another. "If Dally's got 'em hidden, they're safe then." I said reluctantly. Dallas Winston was a good buddy like that. He'd take his story to the grave if it meant keeping his own safe.

"I just want them home," Soda whispered. Then I saw something I wasn't used to seeing, even though Soda was one of the most emotional guys I knew. His face crumbled as he leaned heavily against the Buick.

"Hey, shh, honey, they're gonna come home," I said softly as I nudged past Steve so I could wrap my arms around Soda. "They're safe. They're gonna come home. I swear on everything I love, they're gonna come home."

"What if…Hell, Pony's just a kid…they're just kids…what if…what if they…" Soda began to tremble something fierce.

"Hey, shush, none of that," I said softly, my face burying into Soda's arm. "They're gonna come home and we'll figure it out, okay? I promise you, we're gonna figure this out."

"What if they don't ever come home?" Soda was in hysterics now. "What if the…the…Socs…what if…" Soda crumbled into me, his face buried deeply into my shoulder. I held him tight, shushing him the best I could. I knew the fear he felt. Him and Ponyboy had a bound none of us fully understood. They were thicker than molasses and one wasn't complete without the other. I felt a pang of guilt in my chest, knowing that my own kid brother was mixed up in this mess too. But Kip and I were used to the hard life, maybe even more than Darry and the rest were. We were used to running and hiding out. We were used to relying on Dally or Tim to get us out of trouble. Having our Ma die when we were so young left us more resilient to the harsh realities life offered.

"Ain't no one gonna hurt 'em, I promise you that, savvy?" I said sternly, pulling away just enough to see Soda's brown eyes lacking their usual love for life. "I promise you, no one's gonna hurt them."

I meant what I said. In that heartbreaking moment, I knew what I had to do. I knew I would stop at nothing to bring our brothers home.


	5. Chapter 5

Three days after the boys killed that Soc, both Buck and my boss at the Dingo said enough was enough and told me not to come back till our boys were found. I'd been too distracted to keep up with customers and tables at the diner and whenever I was at Buck's, I was too busy asking around for information instead of doing the job Buck hired me for.

Dally got hauled in at some point, because Dally always gets hauled in for murder reps and managed to convince the cops that Johnny, Ponyboy and Kipper had headed to Texas. As soon as I heard that, I knew he was lying. And I knew if he was lying, there was a pretty good reason he was.

"C'mon Dally, we all know you know where they are," I begged. It was late into the fourth night and none of us had gotten much sleep. Two-Bit was ready to drive down to Texas to hunt the boys down. Probably woulda too, had I not pointed out that none of the three spoke a lick of Spanish so hoping the boarder to Mexico wasn't gonna do them an ounce of good.

"I told ya, Texas," Dally said tiredly. I could tell by how his eyes were shifting, that he wanted to bring them home too.

"Think it's safe yet?" I asked him in a hushed tone as we both made our way outside. Darry was inside crunching numbers or reading the paper – anything he could do to keep his mind off his missing kid brother. Soda and Steve were playing cards though neither were really paying any attention. Two-Bit was off somewhere, probably lifting beer at a corner store.

"Not sure," Dally said honestly. "The fuzz seem to think Texas, so maybe."

"C'mon _Dallas_," I said tiredly. I was tired of running around in circles trying to figure out where he hid them. I'd already checked all the regular places I could think of. Even Cherry Valance, the girlfriend of the soc Johnny killed was helping. She was playing spy for us and keeping her ear on the ground for their whereabouts.

"Told ya…Texas," Dally said warily.

"My brother hates Texas," I snorted. "Damn bible belt. Wouldn't step foot in the good ol' state if you paid him to."

Dally grimaced and stalked off, clearly torn between telling me where I could find my kid brother and keeping him and the other two safe.

As much as I wanted to hate Dally, I admired his resilience. Darry had threatened to split his head in two if he found out Dally knew where they were. Two-Bit nearly drove down to Texas himself. Steve was a mess trying to keep Soda sane and me…well I was doing what I do best. I was holding down the fort while hell broke loose.

* * *

I couldn't sleep that night, so I found myself wandering around the lot, trying to figure out exactly what went wrong in our lives. My heart was heavy and my head ached from not eating or sleeping much that week. I had picked up extra hours to make up for Darry and Soda missing work and I was doing my best to keep their house in running order while the gang hunted down any leads they could find. Soda and I were in agreement that Dally knew, but we both knew Dallas Winston wasn't going to spill.

If I hadn't been paying attention for cars that night, I never would have saw Dally roll by in Buck's T-Bird. I knew the car well. I'd helped fix it up a few times when it died and I was working.

"Son of a bitch," I growled to myself as I cut across the lot, nearly getting myself ran over. Dally hit the brakes and flipped me the bird as I pulled the passenger side door open and climbed in.

"Got a death wish there Jo-Anna Beth?" He growled, his eyes ablaze.

"No, but apparently you do," I shrugged. I knew he knew where they were. "May as well drive, _Dallas_, I'm going with."

"Get outta this car 'fore I throw you out," Dally growled viciously.

"Either you take me, or I'm getting Darry and we'll follow you," I said darkly. Dally threw me a look before cussing everybody he could think of. He knew I'd hold true to my promise.

"I didn't want you gettin' tangled up in this, Kit," he said after a few moments. He pulled away from the curb and kept driving. "You know, you'd be considered an accomplice."

"It's my kid brother," I said sourly. "All three of 'em are. Face it Dal, I'm in this one way or another."

This seemed to shut Dally up because for the remainder of the four-hour drive, Dally didn't say a word. He parked the car and motioned for me to follow him. I lit a cigarette and followed him in silence, my mind only one two things. Finding the boys and bringing them home. The big sister in my itched with anticipation of knocking their heads together for getting themselves into this mess and worrying Darry and Soda half to death.

"How far?" I asked after we seemed to walk for miles. I wasn't feeling too hot but I wasn't going to let Dally onto that fact.

"Up there," Dally motioned to the church. It wasn't too far off. As we approached, Dally let out the whistle we all knew well. It was low and long and ended on a high note. When I heard someone return the whistle, I took off running.

"Glory, he looks different with his hair like that," Dally mused as he nudged Ponyboy in the ribs with his boot.

I looked around and spotted my brother asleep a few feet away. I walked over to him and hauled him up before he had a chance to realize what was happening. His usually dark hair was bleached and cut in shaggy locks, his eyes sunken. He looked awful.

"God help me, Kipper John, if you ever-," I stopped myself before I could continue to scold him because tears of joy were rolling down my cheeks and before I could chew him out, I was crying like a baby. "Glory, I missed you kid."

"Crushin' me sis," Kip said tiredly. I let him go, but kept one hand on his shoulder. Pony was going on and on asking questions, to which Dally waved him off and handed him the note from Soda.

"They really miss you," I said softly as I led Kip over to the trio. "We all do."

"What do ya say to gettin' some food first?" Dally suggested. Food was the last thing on my mind, but I could tell by looking at the three younger boys, they could definitely use a good meal. I pushed Kip towards the door of the church, my hand never fully leaving his shoulder.

Dally drove recklessly and each turn made the ache in my head worse. I had a sinking feeling that something bad was going to happen, but when you grow up like we do, you don't voice those concerns. We know something bad can always happen, we have that kinda shitty luck.

We stopped at a Dairy Queen and all four boys ordered food, while I stood outside the car letting a weed ease the tension in my neck. I vaguely heard Dally tell the boys to slow down before they made themselves sick. I glanced through the window but didn't bother myself none, because all three were digging into their food like each bite was their last. When you grow up around a gang of guys, you get used to their disregard for actually chewing their food after a while.

After a while, Dally filled them in on the current war-fare going on between us and the Socs. I tuned him out. I knew how badly things had gotten. That kid they killed had a lot of friends. It was all out war and none of us felt safe anymore, not that we did before. We had a rumble set for the following night. The terms were simple, but we were all hopin' we'd win. If we won, the Socs agreed to stay off our turf.

I sat down against the side of the car, letting the icy air ease the uneasy feeling in my gut. I knew it was more nerves than anything. I was worried about too many things at once and suddenly finding myself wondering if that's how Darry felt all the time. I didn't really listen to the boys talk, I wasn't in the mood to give my opinion on things. Something made my heart fill with dread and I looked up in time to hear Johnny and Dally go back and forth about them turning themselves in.

I slid back into the backseat next to Kip, who was sitting between me and Ponyboy. I leaned against the window and began to doze off, only waking up moments later when Dally hit the gas, nearly tore out the transmission of the T-Bird. We sped down the red dirt road and quite frankly, the speed Dally was going at had me frightened. So much so that I couldn't register what he was saying to Johnny.

My eyes widened as we quickly approached the church.

"Holy shit," Kip hissed, his eyes widening.

"Let's go see what the deal is," Ponyboy said as he jumped out of the car.

"What for? Get back in here before I beat your head in!" Dally screamed after Ponyboy.

It all happened too fast. One second Dally was chewing Johnny out for wanting to turn himself in, the next, we were running head first towards the fire. There was a group of little kids huddled next to a couple grownups. Pony tapped the nearest one and asked what was going on.

The man explained to Pony that they were picnicking up there and next thing you know, the church was on fire.

My vision blurred the second I heard a woman shout that some of the kids were missing. The big sister in me took over immediately.

Me, Johnny, Ponyboy, and Kip took off running towards the church, ignoring the panicked cries from the adults. Ponyboy made it into the church first, followed by Johnny, then Kip and I.

Somehow we got split up. Smoke choked me as Johnny and I started handing kids to Pony, who was getting them out the window to Dally as quick he could. The fire was growing around us, the heat unbearable. How were there so many kids in that damn church? Every time we thought we had them all, we found another one huddled in the corner. I could barely breathe, my entire body feeling as if it were on fire. Then I heard Kip's panicked cry and he shoved a little girl my way. I brushed the burning ambers from her hair before shoving her towards Ponyboy, along with Kip. I vaguely saw Dally grabbing for them as my vision began to blur. I was choking on my own spit, my head clouding as I stumbled forward.

"Get out!" I shouted over the crackling. I looked up and saw the roof beginning to give. "The roof! Get outta here!" I reached for Johnny, but Dally's strong grip pulled me from the window before I could register what was happening.

As soon as my knees hit the grass, the world went black.

* * *

_A/n: I want to personally thank everyone who has followed, faved and reviewed so far! I promise, this story is going to go well past the actual story and continue for a few more books after that! From here on out, a few things will be a little less "real" so to speak, because obviously, I wasn't alive in the 60s and research only gets me so far. _

_Another thing I want to point out is that Jo-Anna (Kit) is not going to become a Mary-Sue. While her storyline will mesh with the Canon storyline, by no means is she perfect and that will definitely show in coming chapters!_

_You guys keep me going! Let me know what you think! What should I change? What do you love? What do you hate? _


	6. Chapter 6

I refused to let anyone check me out. Words like "smoke inhalation", "lucky it wasn't worse," "dislocated shoulder", and others all seemed to go in one ear and out the other. Once the doctor realized I wasn't going to let him check me out, he unwillingly allowed me to discharge myself, my hand trembling as I signed the paperwork. I was overly aware of the pain in my chest with every breath and the way my shoulder felt like it was being stabbed with nails every single time I moved it, but in that moment, all I cared about was my brother. All I wanted was to know he was going to be okay. I couldn't even remember how I ended up in the hospital in the first place. Maybe I drove the T-Bird. Maybe I rode in the ambulance. Regardless, it was all a haze and I couldn't seem to shake the uneasy feeling in my stomach no matter how hard I tried.

As soon as I was no longer considered a patient, I did everything in my power to find out about the others, most importantly, my kid brother who I hadn't seen head nor tail of since getting to the hospital. Turned out Ponyboy made it out with no more than a few scrapes, but they wouldn't tell me anything about Dally or Johnny. They said they couldn't release the information to anyone who wasn't kin and right then, I didn't have it in me to explain that we were the only family Johnny and Dally had. I needed to see Dally, but my brother was my bigger priority. For a split moment, I knew what Darry felt. The pang in my chest left me feeling hopeless and broken. When I asked about my brother, everyone seemed to shush up real quick and avoid eye contact. I watched cautiously as one went to find the doctor, but I could tell by their looks that it wasn't good. I suddenly found myself remembering back to the night we lost our mother to her long battle with cancer.

"Someone better start talking, where in almighty hell is my brother?" I demanded, my voice hoarse and my throat tight. "Where the fuck is he?"

Kipper John was my lifeline in this cold, heartless world. When we were kids, I always looked out for him. He was always trying to keep up with Soda and Steve, Ponyboy and Johnny. He was a tuff kid. Strong. Agile. Brave. Insanely good at keeping his mouth shut and his nose clean. Even after Ma died and I took up the role of mother. He was a good kid. Smart, funny and sweet. He was too damn good to be a greaser. He was my only reason for breathing after Ma died. He was what kept me going when the nights were long and the world seemed so cold and cruel around me. Ever since the day he was born, my world shifted and my only purpose in life was to keep him safe. Maybe it was just the way life went sometimes, but for me, losing Ma meant stepping up and being the best big sister I could be.

"I'm so sorry Jo-Anna, we did everything we could…" the doctor's words fell on deaf ears as I stared at the pale, motionless body of my baby brother. He looked so much younger than thirteen laying there against the bleach white sheets. I could see the deep burns that riddled his torso, but what I wasn't understanding was why his chest wasn't rising and falling. Why he wasn't breathing.

"You're wrong," I whispered as my vision blurred. There was no way he wasn't alive. "He…"

"I'm so, so sorry," the doctor said softly.

I couldn't take it. I stormed down the hall and nearly knocked Ponyboy over as he rushed towards me at the same time I caught sight of Soda running down the hall. I sank into a seat, stealing the weed out of Pony's hand as he was embraced by Darry and Sodapop. I felt a pang in my chest again and for a split second, I hated that they were able to hold him close. I hated that they were able to sleep that night knowing that their kid brother was safe and in their arms again.

They hadn't noticed me yet, too wrapped up in hugging and kissing their baby brother. And I understood it. All I wanted was to hold my own kid brother in my arms and know he was safe and home at last. I'd never get that chance. I stomped out the stub of the weed before hurrying to my feet and making my way past Darry and Soda before they had a chance to stop me. What Darry didn't realize was Two-Bit taught me too good and I was able to lift his keys off him without him noticing.

I ran out to where Darry's truck was parked, not even the least bit surprised that though my body was moving in a semi-crazy state, that I was able to find it, and slid in, my hands trembling as I slid the key into the ignition and turned it on. The heat blasted. It warmed the ice from my veins almost immediately. The heat reminded me that I was very much alive and had to be, in order to save the people I loved most.

I lit a cigarette, something Darry would surely have a cow for, and sat there, suddenly aware of how badly my body ached. My chest felt heavy from all the smoke I'd inhaled and my head hurt something fierce. The ache in my shoulder made me realize just how bad off it was and I was overly aware of the stinging pain that riddled that same arm. I didn't care. All I cared about was that my kid brother wasn't coming back. I felt hot tears begin to roll down my cheeks and quickly swiped them away, unwilling to allow myself to break down. No. Breaking down wasn't my style and I knew that I'd have to be strong for the gang regardless. _Kipper is dead. Ma's dead. Everyone you love is dead._ I felt sick. My heart ached and for a split second, panic set in. I lit another weed and silenced my mind with thoughts of rumbles and rodeos and mindless recklessness that had since become my life.

After a while I turned the truck off, not willing to run the battery down or waste gas, but I didn't move. Instead, I let my head fall against the window and let the exhaustion take over. I hadn't slept in nearly a week and I knew I wouldn't be getting any restful sleep any time soon. The warmth of the truck reminded me of a warm blanket on a cold winter night. I let my eyes flutter shut, my last conscious thought was of horses and fast cars and careless summer nights when we were all kids.

* * *

It seemed like hours had passed by the time I felt someone yank the driver's side door open, causing me to fall over and nearly fall right out. I looked up to see the concerned, yet furious expression Darry was wearing.

"Next time just ask," he said sourly, but his voice held no bite. I slid over to make room for him to get in while Soda and Ponyboy piled in next to me. I was overly aware that I felt sick to my stomach but I didn't say anything. Pony looked about as bad as I felt. I let his head fall to my shoulder as I turned to Darry.

"Any news?" I asked, my voice hitching in my throat. I wasn't sure if they knew about Kipper yet.

"Johnny's real bad," Darry said tiredly, sliding in next to me. "They…" he glanced at Ponyboy, "They're doin' all they can."

"And Dally?" I asked as I absorbed the news. The truck suddenly felt like it was a thousand degrees and for a split second I thought I was going to hurl.

"He's gonna be okay," Darry said confidently. "His arm's messed up, but other than that…"

"Tuff 'nuff," I nodded faintly. Glory, I felt awful. I sank into my spot in the truck, letting the lull of silence ease me to sleep as Darry drove with extra caution that night. I sure wasn't feeling too hot, but then again, who would after they saw their brother's dead body right in front of them? I wasn't sure if it was being in shock or just being exhausted, but before I knew it, my eyes fell shut, heavy with sleep. The warmth of the truck both lulling me into a restless sleep and causing my stomach to turn. I suppose exhaustion won out because I swear, I didn't know we were home till the next morning.


	7. Chapter 7

I woke early the next morning to the sound of roughhousing in the kitchen. I groaned and rolled over on the couch, feeling absolutely awful but knowing I had a shift at the Dingo to make. With the rumble set for 7 that night, I was skipping out on my shift at Buck's, which he was perfectly okay with since we were standing beside the Shepherd Outfit that night. This rumble was so important that even Darry knew he couldn't keep me on the sidelines. Sometimes I fought in rumbles, sometimes I didn't. It all depended on what we were fighting for. Being a girl, it was extremely uncommon for me to actually get messed up in a rumble. Most Socs wouldn't dare to touch me, though when my hair was normally cut and I almost passed as one of the guys. Having a relatively burly build worked in my advantage, but I'd lost a lot of weight since the last time I showed in a rumble and I knew I wouldn't be able to use my strong build to mask the fact I was in fact, a girl. I ran my hand through my hair and made a mental note to hack it off before the rumble that night.

"Did you just waste our breakfast?" I chided as I slid into the first chair I could find. Ponyboy was trying to wrestle his way away from Two-Bit.

"Hey Kitten, where's Kipper this fine morning?" Two-Bit asked as he let Pony back up. I flinched and looked at the paper on the table, reading the article that had been written quickly. I ignored the fact that it was claiming us to be heroes, instead, I scanned to see if there was any mention of Kip. Of course there wasn't. I sucked in a shaking breath, ignoring Two-Bit's question. I tossed the paper on the table before bracing myself against the counter, trying to steady the tremble that ran through my spine.

"They didn't tell you nothing?" I directed the question at Ponyboy. He looked up and shook his head.

"Said they couldn't 'cause we weren't blood," he said. "Why? What happened?"

"Kip's dead."

All eyes were on me as I spit those two words out with a shaking voice. Darry, who had been coming into the kitchen froze, his eyes widening as he stared at me. Soda was in the middle of asking where his pants were, but froze as soon as he heard my words.

Then everyone started talking at once.

"Glory, I'm so sorry Kit."

"How? What happened?"

"When? How? The hell Kit, why didn't you say anything?"

"Last night? Is that why you bolted?"

"Fuck, I'm sorry!"

"Shut up, please," I groaned as I waved my hands to cut them all off. "Right now, I just want a cup of coffee and a weed. In peace. _Please_."

Once more, everyone started talking all at once, until Darry's deep voice rose a little louder.

"Give her space guys," he said sternly, giving me a hopeless, let knowing look. I nodded my gratitude before grabbing a cup of coffee and walking out the front door to sit on the steps. I was nearly done with my first cigarette when I saw an unwelcomed sight roll down the street. The old, rundown truck stopped behind Darry's and for a split second, I considered going back inside and locking the door. Instead, I braced myself and lit another cigarette, my hand trembling ever so slightly.

"Well, well, well," my father's raspy voice rang as he stumbled towards me, his eyes ablaze. "Looks like you went and got my son killed, huh?"

"There was an accident, Pops," I said, trying not to let emotion get the best of me.

"Accident, that's what you are," he slurred as he came closer. His voice was loud, alerting Steve, who had been about to step out to smoke a cigarette of his own. He hesitated at the door, but I felt him inch behind me.

"You here to pay your condolences?" I asked bitterly. "Not like you were any kinda father."

"Nup," he scoffed, taking another step. "Here to tell ya to clean up the mess you made with your sorry, delinquent ass."

"What mess?" I growled. My blood was boiling. I heard the door behind me open, but paid it no mind. Neither did my father.

"You owe me the mortgage payment. And your shit's in my truck. You're out. Without that kid of yours, I don't need you under my roof no how," he spat. I felt my blood run cold.

"My shit?" I asked. He had no right stepping foot into my bedroom.

My father hurried back to the truck, stumbling the entire time. He pulled out an old milk crate and dumped its contents into the front yard. I groaned internally while I watched him throw my clothes and other belongings on the ground.

"Where's my money, _Princess_? You owe me, I kept your sorry ass alive, unlike you. You couldn't even keep Kipper alive, sorry sack of shit, your mother should have drowned your sorry ass when she had the chance – she'd kill you herself if she knew you got our son killed. Kipper was the good one. Smart one that kid was. He was gonna go somewhere with his life, unlike you. You're just a little slut, runnin' amuck with boys, causing nothing but problems for our family. You aren't worth the air you breathe." His words had no effect on me. I'd been hearing those things from him since the day my mother died. "You get everyone you love killed. Everyone who comes within a five-mile radius of you is cursed because of you. _No one can love you without ending up dead. You ruin the lives of everyone around you._ You should be the dead one, not your brother."

I felt my anger taking over, but thankfully, Steve had gotten Darry, and enough was enough.

"I reckon it's time you leave," he said sternly, his arms crossed in front of him. "Before I have to make you leave."

"Lord help you, son, she's no good for you either," he snickered as he backed up, his hands in the air in submission. "She's gonna get you killed too, son, just you wait. She's got a curse, that one, and she's gonna bring your world down 'round you 'fore you know what happened to ya."

With that, he kicked my belongings as he made his way to his truck and got in.

"Rot in hell, you sorry excuse of a woman," he shouted out the window before he sped off, his tires squealing as he turned the corner.

"You know he's wrong, right?" Darry said gently as I stood to retrieve what was rightfully mine. I said nothing as I collected everything and tossed it into the milk crate, ignoring the pain in my shoulder and the ache between my eyes. I continued to say nothing as I sulked back into the house and silently put the crate in the room that I no longer shared with my brother. Without a word, I went about getting ready for work, trying my best to ignore the hushed voices from the living room.

"He's a monster," Steve said sourly.

"She didn't need none of that," Two-Bit remarked.

"She's not going to be able to cope, she really shouldn't go to work today," Darry sighed.

"You already know she's going to," Steve muttered. Steve knew me well.

"Stop talkin' like I ain't here," I scolded as I left the bedroom, my hair pinned up in a messy bun. I was determined to cut it off when I got back from work. "I _need_ to work. I need a distraction. Besides, I pity the fool who pisses me off today. I'm gonna save all my hate for the rumble. You'll see."

"Maybe you-" I cut Darry off before he could continue.

"I'm gonna be there. No matter what," I growled. Darry sank back in defeat. He knew there was no use talking to me when I was in a mood like that.

"Steve, you riding with Soda today?" I asked as I moved towards the door. I knew Darry was going to drop Soda off at work.

"Car's in the shop," Steve said, giving me a sympathetic smile. I knew Two-Bit's was out of commission too.

"Thanks," I nodded as I shrugged and walked out the front door. The Dingo wasn't too far. I'd be there on time regardless. I didn't even mind having to walk, it gave me time to think.

* * *

_No one can love you without ending up dead. You ruin the lives of everyone around you._

My father's words made my heart ache. What if he was right? What if it was my fault that Kip was dead and Johnny was dying in the hospital and Dally was being held against his will? What if somehow it was all my fault? What if…what if…what if.

_No one can love you without ending up dead. You ruin the lives of everyone around you._

No. He was wrong. Kipper died because of the fire, because his heart couldn't handle the smoke. He died because he always had a murmur with his heart and it finally stopped working. No. He was wrong. Ma died because she had cancer. Ma didn't die because of me. Neither did Darry's folks. They died in a freak accident. It wasn't because of me.

Was it?

* * *

_A/N: I wanted to take a second to say thank you to everyone whose been reading this story! I wanted to make sure I built up a little bit of internal conflict so that I can keep it going as we near the end of the actual book! I promise, you won't be disappointed! I have an entire story planned for after this one wraps up too! I can't wait to hear what y'all think! Reviews and follows keep me motivated!_


	8. Chapter 8

Work seemed to pass in a blur. Someone must have told my boss what happened because he insisted on keeping me in the back of the diner my entire shift, doing mundane tasks like dishes and trays, scrubbing spots that no one ever bothers to clean and helping prep for the evening rush. Any other day it would have bothered me, but that day, I just wanted the shift to end. I wasn't feelin' too hot and my emotions were all over the place. By lunch time, I was physically and mentally exhausted in more ways than I could ever imagine.

My boss, a relatively kind, but strict man, approached me while I was sitting in the back on an overturned milk crate, a glass of water in one hand, a weed in my other.

"Why not head home for the day, Kit?" he asked. Told you, everyone called me by my nickname.

"I'm here for a few more hours still," I said, flicking the stub onto the ground, grinding it under my stained doc martins.

"You look awfully sick today, kiddo," he said gently. "Don't need you gettin' everyone sick. Head home. Get a shower and somethin' in your belly and get some sleep. I know this ain't been an easy couple weeks on you, you're my best waitress, I don't wanna lose you."

"Then don't make me clock out," I said stubbornly.

"Go home, Jo-Anna, it's not up for debate."

I groaned inwardly but got up anyway. I followed him back inside and slowly made my way over to the time clock. After punching out, I tossed my apron aside and tiredly began for home, or rather, for the only home I had anymore; the Curtis' house.

When I walked through the front door, I wasn't the least bit surprised to find it empty. I knew Two-Bit was probably visiting Dally and Johnny with Ponyboy, Steve and Soda were both working at the DX and Darry was either on a job roofing or working one of his many part time jobs. I closed the door behind me and looked around, debating on whether to begin cleaning or not. After a few minutes of hesitation, I decided to head into the bathroom and cut off my relatively long locks. It'd been a while since I cut my hair, but I was determined to get in the middle of the action that night and I knew no one would touch me if they knew for certain I was a girl.

An hour later, I was staring at my freshly cut hair, my fingers ruffing up the strands that barely touched my shoulders. I definitely looked different for sure. I marveled that thought for a moment, before I felt a pang in my heart. My brother sure had looked different with his hair cut and dyed too.

"God, why'd you have to take him?" I whispered to no one in particular. "Why not me?"

After letting a few tears spring loose, I flopped onto my bed and stared at the ceiling until sleep took over. I hadn't realized how tired I was until I fell asleep.

* * *

"Should we just let her sleep?" a voice hissed, startling me out of my sleep. I blinked and realized it was dark outside. I rolled over and squinted against the blinding light coming from the hallway through my cracked door.

"I'm up," I said tiredly, trying to shield my eyes from the light.

"Your boss called my jobsite," Darry said gently, pushing the door open a little further. "Said he was awfully worried about you. Told me he sent you home sick. You sure you're up for tonight?"

"He's just afraid I'm gonna scare away his patrons," I scoffed. "I'm fine."

Darry caught sight of my short hair and nodded. He knew I only cut my hair when I was ready to take on anyone at a rumble.

"Stick close to Steve and Soda," Darry said gently as I pushed my way past him. "This way you've got coverage if you need it."

"How about you worry about your kid brothers for a change?" I spat. He flinched but took my blow like it was nothing. "Sorry…"

"Don't sweat it," Darry said giving me a gently pat on the back.

* * *

We left the house roughly 10 to 7. The rumble was gonna take place in the lot so it wasn't like we had far to go. The guys were all riled up, but I tried to tune them out. While they were jumping off the porch doing summersaults, I was walking slowly, letting the ache in my head remind me why I was showing face that night.

However, when the chanting began, there was no way I was missing out on that.

"I am a greaser, I am a JD and a hood," Soda began chanting "I blacken the name of our fair city! I beat up people. I rob gas stations. I am a menace of society. Man, do I have fun!"

Steve and I glanced at each other before skip running towards Soda, chessy cat grins on our faces.

"Greaser…greaser…greaser," we shouted in clipped, socey voices. "'O victim of environment, underprivileged, rotten, no-count hood!"

"Juvenile delinquent, you're no good!" Darry chimed in.

"Get thee hence, white trash," Two-Bit pulled his best snob voice. "I am a Soc. I am the privileged and the well-dressed. I throw beer blasts, drive fancy cars, break windows at fancy parties!"

Ponyboy and I both grinned at each other before shouting as loud as we could "And what do you do for fun?"

"I jump greasers!" Two-Bit called as he did a flip.

Even though I still wasn't feeling too hot, it felt absolutely amazing to be back in the swing of things with the gang. The last time I actually showed for a rumble felt like forever ago, even though it was probably only a few months. A year tops. Getting older does that to you. One day you're out kicking rocks with your friends, the next you're working two full time jobs trying to make sure your brother's alive.

_Kipper._

"This one's for you, kid brother," I murmured as we neared the lot. Steve threw a look at me, but said nothing. Steve was good like that. Knew how to observe without putting his nose where it didn't belong.

When we approached the lot, I surveyed who all was there. Dally and Johnny were in the hospital and I knew from the grapevine that Curly Shepherd, the younger brother of Tim, was in the reformatory. That with Kip being gone meant we were down four guys, not that I ever agreed with him being in a rumble anyway, he was still a good fighter.

Tim and company were standing at one side of the lot, making small talk and getting each other hyped for the rumble. Across the way a little I saw the boys from the Brumby outfit. The Brumby outfit was a strange bunch. They weren't like us, but they sure as sin tried to be.

I looked around and my heart sank when I realized Darry would probably be the one to start things. He was the biggest and meanest looking one. As the Socs approached in their fancy cars, I felt a sickening sensation that something was going to go wrong. As they piled out, I could tell we were outnumbered but it was about as even as it was going to get.

For a few moments, it looked like no one was sure who was going to step up to lead. But as expected, Darry stepped forward and shouted that he was willing to take on anyone. A few hesitant moments later, a big former football player stepped forward. I couldn't remember his name but I remembered he used to play football with Darry in high school.

I was scanning the crowd for someone I knew I could take easily. Normally I stuck by the younger guys and helped them take on smaller Socs, but this time, I was going to have to rely on my own strength to keep me on my feet. I knew I'd have one eye on Ponyboy, but he was swift in a fight and I knew I didn't need to worry about him too much.

The two older guys circled around one another over and over, until it seemed like neither one was going to throw the first blow. Just as people began to grow more restless, I heard a familiar voice call out.

"Hold up! Hold it!"

I turned to see Dally running towards us, his arm still wrapped. Before anyone else could react, the big guy in front of Darry got him with a right hook and it began.

I was about to try and back my way to Ponyboy so I could cover him but a bigger guy, nearly twice my size, charged me without even seeming to think it through. I let out a shrill screech before sliding between his legs, my arms hooking around his legs. He fell on his face, giving me the upper hand. I used all my frustrations and pent up emotions as I threw blow after blow at his face, until he wrestled me to the ground, his arm pressing painfully into my throat.

"You're a pretty small guy," he spat as he threw a blow at my right cheek. I saw stars but managed to wiggle my way out of his grip enough to knee him in the groin. He grunted and doubled over, giving me just enough time to dive onto his back, plowing him into one of his buddies who was trying to come rescue him.

"Shame you're getting your ass kicked by a girl," I hissed in his ear as I kicked him in the side before shoving him away.

Unfortunately, I was so wrapped up in taking him out that I didn't see the kid coming up behind me. He had me in a headlock before I could free myself. My chest swelled with pain as he cut off my air supply.

A moment later, we were rolling around on the ground, I felt something connect with the side of my head, then another blow to my still healing ribs. I groaned and saw stars.

"Get off her," Dally growled as he came to my aid, ripping the bigger of the two from on top of me. I scrambled to my feet and took the opportunity to hurl myself onto the guy's back, knocking him face first into the mud. He grunted but laid there, clearly done.

"Thanks," I said as I came up to Dally's side and together we took out another Soc. "Thought they weren't letting you out?"

"Got my ways," he said sharply. "Don't you know it ain't a rumble if I ain't in it?"

I snickered at his comment but was quickly preoccupied with trying to avoid being stomped on. Dally was helping Ponyboy out when we heard someone shout that they were running.

"We won! We won!" someone cried out merrily. I groaned and rolled onto my knees, surveying the scene. Sure enough, the Socs were running.

As I looked around, I caught sight of Tim cursing up a storm because his nose was broken again. The leader of the Brumby boys was laying in on one of his boys because they picked up a piece of pipe and used it, breaking the rules. Steve looked rough, doubled over in pain, while Soda tried to comfort him. Two-Bit's face was cut up pretty bad and his hand was busted clean open. I caught sight of Ponyboy next to Dally. They both looked something awful.

"We won," Darry said, his tone tired. He was a shiner forming and deep cut in his forehead which I made a mental note to tend to as soon as we got back to the house.

I vaguely caught sight of Dally dragging Ponyboy somewhere but the taste of metallic in my mouth kept me from moving.

"You good?" Steve groaned as he looked up and caught sight of me. "Soda? Is she okay?"

"Kit?" Soda looked up. I blinked, seeing stars. I reached up and touched the tender spot on my head and groaned when my hand came away soaked in blood. I tried to stand but my legs wouldn't work right. I looked down and saw that my jeans were ripped and blood was seeping through the gaps in the fabric. I groaned before looking at Steve and Soda, both who was watching me with genuine concern.

"I'm good," I lied through clenched teeth as I forced myself to sit up.

"Get Steve back to the house," Darry instructed Soda while he walked over to me. "I'll help you, okay?" I nodded and let him help me to my feet. I ached all over but I knew most of the wounds were superficial and would be fine once I cleaned them up. I'd taken a worse beating from my ol' man. This was nothing compared to that.

* * *

It took us a couple hours to get everyone patched up, but as the night drew on, we all managed to get patched up pretty good. Steve had three broken ribs which were taped up as best as we could manage since he was too damn stubborn to go the hospital. I made him stay stretched out on the couch resting while I helped Darry tend to the others before we tended to each other's wounds.

Soda had a busted lip and bruised cheek but otherwise seemed to fair pretty well. He didn't have any significant injuries from what Darry and I could see. Two-Bit needed stitches in his face and hand, but thankfully, I was skilled with sewing up people, so I managed to throw a few stitches into both without much effort.

"You're good at that," he mused when he saw my hands make quick work of the wounds. "Shoulda been a doctor."

"Ain't got no bedside manner," I shrugged as I taped bandages over the stitches. Then I turned my attention to Darry and quickly cleaned the wound on his forehead. There wasn't much more to be done other than bandage it.

Once everyone else was patched up, I finally sat in the armchair and let Darry go to work on me. I had a few bruised ribs but I wasn't as bad off as Steve was. Darry was concerned about the cut on my head and leg, but after he cleaned both up, I convinced him that I was fine. He bandaged my head while I stitched my own leg up, a skill I'd learned after my father broke glass and threw me down on it a few years back. You learn a thing or two when medical bills were not in your budget.

I settled in on the floor next to Steve, worried about him more than the others. Steve can take a beating but right then, he seemed so much younger than almost eighteen.

I must have dozed off a little because I didn't open my eyes until I heard the front door slam shut.

"Where have you been?" Darry demanded. I looked up and saw Ponyboy standing there like he'd seen a ghost. Darry leapt to his feet, but stopped when he saw Pony's face.

"Ponyboy, what's the matter?"

"Johnny…he's dead," his voice came out sounding all wrong. I felt my insides twist at his words. "We told him about beatin' the Socs and…and…I dunno…he just died."

I thought I was going to be sick. I reached up and grabbed Steve's hand, needing something, anything to keep me grounded. Soda made a funny noise as he choked back tears. Two-Bit closed his eyes, his jaw tense as he clenched his teeth. Darry looked devastated. The silence was almost unbearable when Pony seemed to remember something.

"Dallas is gone. He ran outta there like the devil was after him. He's gonna blow up. He couldn't take it," he said, his voice trembling.

"So he finally broke," Two-Bit whispered. "So even Dally has a breaking point."

I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath. I opened them when I heard Darry whisper something to Soda, in which Soda turned his attention to his younger brother.

"Ponyboy," Soda said softly, his voice tender. "You look sick. Sit down."

Ponyboy backed up like a kicked puppy, shaking his head violently. "I'm okay." He said, but his voice betrayed him. "I don't want to sit down." I pushed myself to my feet as Darry took a step towards Pony. "Don't touch me." Pony started to tremble.

The phone ringing made Darry stop. He threw a worried look in my direction before answering the phone. "Hello?" he listened for a few moments before hanging up quickly.

"It was Dally. He phoned from a booth. He…he just robbed a grocery store and the cops are after him. We gotta hide him. He'll be in the lot in a minute."

The rest happened so fast. How we all managed to run as fast as we did in the shape we were in will always baffle me. I pulled ahead of the group, reaching the lot a few paces ahead of them. Just in time to see Dally aim the unloaded heater at the cops.

"He's just a kid!" I screamed as loud as I could. "It ain't loaded!"

My cries fell on deaf ears as the sound of gunfire echoed. I skidded to a stop as Dally's body crumbled into my arms. I fell painfully to the ground, Dally's head cradled in my lap. I felt a sob rip through me as I cursed everyone to hell and back. I twisted my hand around the chain that held Dally's prized ring and pocketed it before the cops could see what I was doing. I held onto my friend for dear life, not letting go even when I heard someone say something about Ponyboy. I didn't let go even when Soda pleaded with me to just let go. I didn't let go until someone, I'm not sure who, finally hoisted me up, letting Dally's limp body fall onto the pavement. I felt sick. I felt furious. I felt nothing at all.

"I…I" I whispered. Suddenly, I was running. I wasn't sure where I was going, but I was running. And no one tried to stop me. Memories of Dally and Johnny and Kipper swarmed my vision and fueled the fire in my soul. I ran and ran until I couldn't run no more. I looked up and realized I was standing out front the DX when a thought became clear. I knew what I was going to do. I knew what I had to do.

* * *

_A/n: I always hated the way Dally died. It always made me cry and writing about it was hard. However, it's going to play such a big role in the continuation of this story! Let me know what you think!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Outsiders, it's characters or any lines quoted directly from the novel. _


	9. Chapter 9

_No one can love you without ending up dead. You ruin the lives of everyone around you._

My father's words rang in my head as I popped the lock to the garage with ease. Hanging around the people I do, you pick up a thing or two along the way. I slid through the cracked door and made my way over to Steve's car. I knew he was going to want to skin me alive for taking it, but I also knew Steve would understand eventually. I tried the door and wasn't surprised to find it unlocked. I fumbled around and found the keys tucked in the cup holder. I smiled to myself before sliding back out and opening the garage door so I could back the car out. As soon as I had it outside, I ran back in and shut the door so no one passing by would be the wiser to the fact that I was about to commit grand theft auto. I scribbled a quick note for Steve and tacked it to the cork board before locking up.

_Steve,_

_Don't hate me. I promise I'm gonna bring your car back in one piece with a full tank. There's something I gotta do, ya dig? Somethin' I can't let go of. I need ya to take care of the guys for me, okay? Tell Soda not to worry and to stop stressin' about Sandy. Tell Pony to do his homework and mind Darry. Tell Darry not to go too hard on him and to read a book sometime. Tell Two-Bit to get a job and maybe tell his momma he loves her, ya know? And you? You take care of yourself buddy. Keep that nose of yours clean. I'm gonna be comin' home soon. I swear it. Just don't let no one miss me too much, okay?_

_Jo-Anna Beth Stevenson_

I drove around for a while until I decided on the one place I could probably find what I was looking for. I drove down to the stables and parked the car as close as I cared to the office area. I slid out and let the cool country air sooth the panic rising in my throat.

"Kit! Been a long time!" a welcomed voice chimed. It was Sally May. She was a sweet older woman who often taught the younger Socs how to ride. "That kid brother of yours doing well?"

"Not here for small talk, Sally, sorry," I said softly. "Came down here to see if Richie was around." Richie was someone who knew Dally really well.

_No one can love you without ending up dead. You ruin the lives of everyone around you. _I watched one of my best friends die in my arms not even 10 hours ago. I blamed myself. I knew my father had to be right. Everyone I let in gets hurt.

"Richie should be out in the ring," she motioned, sensing the urgency in my question. She watched my carefully, the way mothers do when they're trying to figure out what's wrong. "Somethin' wrong with that boy of yours?" She always called Dally my boy, even though she knew as well as anyone that there was nothing between us other than having each other's backs.

"Dally…Dally's dead ma'am," I said sadly, shaking my head. _You ruin the lives of everyone around you._ "Came here lookin' to see if Richie had a number for his momma," I continued. "I think she's still in New York but I ain't heard much about her. Figured she want a chance to bury her son."

"Lord have mercy," Sally breathed. "I have contact information for his folks. Maybe you can reach 'em. I am so sorry Kit, I really am."

"Thanks ma'am," I nodded and followed her inside. She went through a pile of paperwork before scribbling down a couple phone numbers for me.

"If you can't reach his momma, you might be able to get through to his little sister, Brooklyn," she said as she slid me the slip of paper. "Brooklyn was supposed to move here a few years back but her momma didn't send her. Not too sure why."

"Dally has a sister?" I didn't know I spoke the thought until Sally looked up at me nodding.

"I reckon she's about 15 now. She visited once or twice a while back, fell in love with the ponies. I offered to put her up in exchange for her muckin' the stalls. Her momma seemed all for it but she never came."

I thought about that for a moment. Dally never mentioned having a sister.

"Well I'll be gettin' on my way, thanks for this, Sally," I said softly as I pocketed the paper.

"Why not use our phone? Maybe you can reach 'em," she said kindly. I nodded my thanks and waited for her to leave before dialing the first number.

"Hello?" an older voice answered after the fifth ring.

"Mrs. Winston?" I asked hesitantly.

"Who's askin'?" the voice sounded off and bitter.

"Ma'am," I said, trying my best to keep my tone steady. I wasn't aware of how awful I felt until I stood there trying to track down his folks. "I'm Dallas Winston's fiancé," I lied smoothly. "There…there's been an accident and I'm trying to find his momma."

"I ain't got no son." I blinked as the line went dead. I cursed before sitting down in the chair next to the desk, my mind fuzzy as I dialed the next number. The phone rang and rang, but there was no answer.

"I found this address," Sally said as she walked back into the little office. "My daughter, Bessy, used to write to Brooklyn, used to send her pictures of the ponies and all. Maybe this can help?"

"Thanks Sally, that's mighty helpful," I said as kindly as I could. I went to stand but dizziness took over and I had to sit back down.

"Now child, you look like you've been through hell and back. I don't know what you're runnin' from but I reckon you could use a warm meal and a warm place to lay your head. Why not stay the night?" she offered, her voice so gentle I almost accepted.

"I'll be fine, Sally May, thank you though, I appreciate it," I said gently.

"At least let me get you a little something for the road then," she said as she made to leave. "I know you and that boy of yours were mighty close and I know you've been working for Buck. Buck's a good friend of my husbands, you know that. I'll get you something, you sit tight here, alright?"

"Thank you, truly," I said, leaning back in the chair. She wasn't wrong. I wasn't feeling so hot, but I knew I had to go. If Steve realized his car was gone before I crossed state lines, there was no tellin' what he'd do. Besides, Buck would know where I'd have run off to and would tell Steve or Darry straight away. Whenever I took off when I was younger, I always ended up at the stables. What can I say? I loved horses.

I looked at the piece of paper in my hands and pulled the map that sat on the desk out in front of me. It would take me nearly a full 21 hours of driving to reach the location. I sighed internally and made a mental note to stop at a pay phone once I was across state lines to check in with the gang, just to let them know I was alive.

While I was staring at the map, I caught sight of my appearance and almost laughed. I had blood all over my thin tank top, my jeans were ripped and stained in a mix of mine and Dally's blood. My hands had crimson flakes riddling them from where I clutched my friend as he took his final breath. Yet Sally said nothing about it when I walked up. Maybe she was used to us Greaser kids coming in looking like road kill.

Just as I was lost in my thoughts, she appeared with a laundry bag full of items.

"There's a shower in the barn," she said kindly. "Maybe enjoy a shower before you leave, you look rough," she continued. "I packed you a week's worth of food, Bessy offered up some of her clothes, there's a blanket and a jacket in there too. Plus a little bit more. I'm having one of our stable hands fill up a few jugs of water for you and we're fillin' your tank as we speak."

"Glory, Sally, you didn't need to do all that! Really!" I exclaimed.

"Dallas Winston was one of Buck's best bronc riders. He earned his keep to put it lightly. My husband will be crushed to find out he's gone. It's a shame to see him die so young. Consider this my way of paying my condolences, Kitten, really. It's no trouble at all. Now shoo, go take that shower. I'll worry about your bloodied clothes," she said with a stern, yet welcoming expression. That was the thing about Sally May. She didn't judge us based on our pasts or our appearances. She was genuinely kind and loved everyone. She was too kind for this world, that was for sure.

I nodded my thanks and made my way towards the back of the barn where I knew the shower was. After scrubbing myself raw, I toweled off, changed into a flannel shirt and a formfitting pair of jeans and stared at myself in the cracked mirror. I looked awful. My eyes were sunken in, my cheekbones were bruised and pointing out more than usual. My collarbone was more visible than it'd been before and I was awfully pale against the dim lighting. I almost scared myself. But the fire in my blue eyes was still there. That spark of determination wasn't going anywhere.

After I piled the laundry bag into the backseat of Steve's car, I waved goodbye to Sally and promised to check in with her as soon as I could. Without a moment's hesitation, I pulled onto the gravel road and made for what would become one of the longest journeys of my life.

_No one can love you without ending up dead. You ruin the lives of everyone around you._

I was going to prove my old man wrong. One way or another. I was going to prove him wrong. I shook the thought from my head and paid attention to where I was going. This was going to be the longest trip of my life and I was only hoping I could find my way there. I pulled onto the highway some time later, only two thoughts on my mind; Finding Dally's folks and how the hell I was going to pay for all the gas to get me there.


	10. Chapter 10

I drove until my eyes started to feel heavier than I ever imagined they could. I glanced at the map that was spread out in the seat next to me and realized I was somewhere in Ohio after what felt like 12 hours of driving. I pulled into the first truck stop I saw and parked the car, noting that I'd have to fill up the tank for the fourth time before I left. I stepped out of the car, letting the icy air ease the tension in my muscles. My leg throbbed but I ignored the pain as I hobbled over to a payphone and dialed the only number I knew as well as my own.

"Hello?" a welcomed voice answered on the second ring. "Kitten?"

"Hey Soda," I said softly, leaning against the phone booth.

"Where the hell are you?" he demanded. "We're all worried sick about you and Steve is ready to skin ya for stealing his car."

"I didn't steal it," I said, smiling in spite of myself, "I borrowed it."

"He said the brakes still needed work, he's afraid you're on a suicide mission or something," Soda said, his tone level. "Ponyboy's real sick too. We just got him home from the hospital an hour ago."

"Is he okay?" My tone changed instantly. "How sick?"

"Doc said he'll recover," Soda said, but I could tell he was worried.

"Anyone else there with you?" I asked. I sort of wanted to talk to Steve.

"Kitten, you better have a damn good reason you lifted my car and didn't think to even ask _why_ it was in the shop," Steve's voice spat after a few moments of silence.

"There's somethin' I gotta do Steve, I promise, I'll bring her back in one piece," I vowed. "How bad is Ponyboy?"

"Pretty messed up," Steve said, his tone softening. "He'll be okay though. What about you? You took off like the devil was after you. Where'd you go? Where are you?"

"I'm in Ohio," I chuckled. "On my way to the big apple to see if I can't find Dally's ol' lady," I shrugged. "Sally May got me an address."

"Yeah, she called Buck to tell him where you ran off to. You're lucky Pony's sick and Darry won't give up the truck or me and Two-Bit would be hunting your ass down. What were you thinkin'? Takin' off like that? We're worried, real worried Kit. That leg of yours isn't in any kinda shape to be runnin' across the country with," for a split moment, Steve reminded me of my father before he got mean.

"Steve, I promise, I'm okay, okay? I'll be back by week's end if everything goes as planned," I said carefully.

"Why not just come home? Please? We need you here Kit," Steve said, his tone tired. "Please? If not for me, then for Ponyboy and Soda?"

"I can't," I said quickly. "I have to go. Tell everyone to stop worrying," I added. I hung up before he could make my heart hurt anymore. Steve knew I would do anything for the gang, he knew I'd die for them in a heartbeat, but he didn't know why I was so dead set on finding Dally's mom. I knew if the tables were turned, my Ma would have wanted a chance to bury her son. But my mom was dead and gone and our Pops didn't give a rat's ass if either of us ever made it home alive, no matter what he might say.

I slid into the backseat of Steve's car and rummaged through the sack Sally had packed. I didn't realize I was hungry until I started seeing spots at the edge of my vision. I unpacked the blanket and wrapped it around me, refusing to waste any gas on warming the car up. When I picked through the bag, I was shocked at what fell out. A roll of bills fell into my lap, as well as an old, tattered photograph. I counted the money and smiled inwardly. It was just shy of $200. Enough to fill the tank enough to keep Steve off my back once I got back to Tulsa. After I tucked the money safely into my bra, I turned my attention to the photograph. My eyes teared over. It was of Dallas with his arm around a younger girl who looked exactly like him, only smaller and younger, with a white pony in the background. I flipped the photo over and read the back.

"_Dallas and Brooklyn Winston, Summer of '62"_

I tucked the photo in my pocket before pulling the blanket around me, my hunger long forgotten.

* * *

I hit the road again at the first sign of sun up, after only a few broken hours of restless sleep. I was determined to hit New York before dark. I knew I had at least another 8 hours to go, but I was determined. My leg was burning like it was on fire and my stomach was uneasy. I knew I was coming down with something and the sooner I got this whole ordeal over with, the sooner I could go home to the only people who noticed I was gone.

I drove for hours, my mind fuzzy, barely able to keep my eyes on the road. After driving for 8 hours straight, I saw the sign I was impatiently waiting for; _Now Entering New York._ I sighed softly and pulled off the highway, slowly pulling over until I was in yet another truck stop. This time, I didn't leave the car right away, instead I pushed the driver's seat as far back as it would go and wiggled out of the tight jeans so I could inspect my leg. As soon as I pulled the bandage back, I swore bitterly. The deep cut was oozing puss and looked pretty angry. I groaned and rebandaged it before slipping the pants back on. I leaned heavily against the steering wheel for a moment before finally pushing my way out of the car and limping slowly over to the payphone closest to me. I made a mental note to fill up the tank while I was there.

I dialed a different number this time, hoping to find out what I needed to know.

"Hello?" a warm voice answered on the third ring.

"Sally May?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"Oh my gosh, Kitten! Those boys of yours have been down here every day askin' where you took off to! Wouldn't you know they even threatened Richie? They love you something fierce, darlin'," her words were coming out so fast I barely registered them.

"Did you happen to get a hold of Dally's folks?" I asked. I was silently hoping that she had. I was ready to go home.

"Bessy managed to get a hold of Brooklyn," she informed me. "She said that she'd be waiting outside that address you've got every night till you show up. Said she wanted to come back with you. I told Bessy here not to hold her breath, but it's better than nothing I suppose. Brooklyn looks just like her brother; you won't be able to mistake her."

"Thanks Sally," I said tiredly. "If the guys show up again, send them my love, would ya?"

"Absolutely," she said, her tone chipper. "You sound tired, have you been takin' care of yourself?"

"Right as rain," I said. "Gotta go." I hung up and leaned against the phone booth, my head aching something fierce. At least I knew the kid would be waiting. If nothing else, maybe she knew where her mother was.

After filling the tank, I leaned heavily against the car, taking slow sips of water, my body trembling. I knew I was in bad shape, but I was tough. I was stubborn. I knew I was going to be just fine.

I was lost in my head when an older guy approached me, shaking me from my thoughts.

"My, my, what do we have here?" he chided as he approached. "Looks like a little kitten lost her way."

I flinched and instinctively stood up straighter.

"Can I help you, _sir_?" I asked coolly.

"I reckon you can," he hissed as he reached for my arm. I pulled back, my eyes widening. "Don't be like that baby. Don't you know the road's a lonely place?"

I gritted my teeth and tried to push my way past him so I could get into the car but my bum leg was making that impossible. He grabbed me tightly and pushed me behind the car, where we were hidden thanks to the truck that was parked next to it. He threw me to the ground and while I'd love to go into details of what happened, I'm sure anyone could piece it together.

After a half hour, he got up, patted my face with his calloused hand and took off running. I groaned and pulled myself up, quickly pulling my pants back up, struggling to stand upright. I groaned, pain running down my legs as I quickly pulled myself into the passenger side and wiggled my way into the driver's seat, slamming all the locks down in the process.

"Fucking Christ," I sobbed as I pulled my knees into my chest and sobbed. I'd gone through a lot in my life, but never, ever anything like that. Never in its entirety. I sobbed bitterly before looking over my shoulder, scanning the now empty truck stop. I took in a slow, shaking breath before shifting gears and tearing out of there as fast as I could. I had a couple hours before nightfall so I knew I had time to make it to the address before Brooklyn would be waiting for me.

I drove cautiously, jumpy and feeling even worse than I did before. I felt dirty and sick and wanted nothing more than to be safe with the group of guys I had grown up with and knew could keep me safe.


	11. Chapter 11

I pulled up in front of the address a few hours later and couldn't help but flinch. From the outside, I could tell it was a rundown whorehouse, with questionable characters hanging around the outside. I parked the car and turned the lights off, waiting patiently for the girl I was looking for.

"Start the car!" a girl's cry broke through my concentration as the passenger door ripped open. "Gun it! Before they see me!"

I cursed and tore out of there, nearly crashing Steve's car into the oncoming traffic.

"There! The alley!" she shouted, her dark eyeliner smudged, her thin frame being thrown to and fro with each turn.

I pulled into the alley and let up on the gas, knowing the brakes were shit and if I didn't cruise to a stop we'd be crushed before I could stop it.

"Kit, right?" the girl gasped as she struggled to catch her breath. She looked frantic, but her icy blue eyes and bleach blonde hair let me know she was in fact the girl I was looking for.

"Brooklyn?" I asked as I nodded. "Winston?"

"In the flesh," she smirked, her crooked grin reminding me of her brother's so much, it left an ache in my heart.

"Okay, so start talking. Who are you running from?" I asked. My head felt fuzzy, but before I drove out of state with a kid, I needed to know what I was dealing with.

"My mom's boyfriend," she shrugged.

"Your mom?" I asked, skeptically.

"Well, my birth giver I guess. She cut me and Dal loose when we were kids. How do you think he ended up in Tulsa?" she sighed. "Mom's an addict. Crazy, abusive bitch of a woman. I stole her guy's stash so he's gonna be lookin' for me."

"What'd you steal?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. I wasn't about to cross state lines with drugs in a car I _technically_ stole.

"This," she said, pulling a wad of cash out of her shirt. "Figured if you could find me, we could run away to Tulsa like Dal did." She looked up at me with pleading eyes. "Please? I won't be a bother, I promise. I'm good at keeping my head down and I'm Dal's sister. I deserve to know where he is and what he did. Bes said he was in some kinda trouble?"

"She…" I hesitated. "She didn't say what happened?" My heart was racing in my chest.

"No. Just that you were looking for our mom." She gave me a funny look before noting the ring that was hanging from the chain on the rearview mirror. "You really are his fiancé huh?"

"No," I shook my head quickly. "To be fair, Dally wasn't capable of loving anyone. Except maybe Johnnycakes," I said despite myself.

"Well how do you have his ring then?" She demanded. She looked at me with a bitter, broken glare.

"Dally's…" my throat felt like it was going to close off. "Dally died in my arms," I whispered. "The fuzz shot him down…" I felt sick. One second I was sitting there tell his kid sister that he was dead, the next, I was shoving the car door open just in time to throw up what little was in my stomach.

"No," she moaned. "No, you've gotta be lying."

"I'm sorry," I whispered. I wiped my chin on the back of my hand and leaned back into the car, slamming the door shut. "I'm sorry," I couldn't think of anything else to say.

A stay tear slipped from the girl's eyes before her face turned stone cold. She nodded her blonde head before tossing the wad of cash into my lap.

"Get me to Tulsa," she demanded. I couldn't argue with her. Her angry glare reminded me so much of Dally that I almost wanted to reach out and touch her pointed cheekbones that mirrored her brother's.

I shifted the car into gear and tore down the alley, no more words spoken between us for a long time. We drove for what felt like a week before Brooklyn finally laid her hand on my arm and motioned for us to pull onto the next exit.

"You look ready to fall asleep," she said gently. "We might as well stop for the night." I nodded and pulled into the vacant truck stop, my heart instantly beginning to race, my thoughts going back to what happened at the last truck stop I was at. I pushed the thoughts away and parked the car, sliding out, working the stiffness out of my back. I could barely stand on my bum leg, but I was able to lean heavily against the car while Brooklyn got out with the map in her hands.

"So, where are we?" she asked, looking at the map as if she had never seen one before. I took it from her and laid it out on the hood of Steve's car.

"We're right here," I pointed to a spot on the map. "Or roughly anyway," I added as I studied the paper in front of me, my vision clouding in the corners. "I reckon we're almost to Columbus, so probably make it to Tulsa by the day after tomorrow," I went on. I really wasn't feeling up to driving another 14 hours, but I wanted to get home as soon as possible.

"There's a blanket in the backseat, make yourself comfortable," I sighed as I limped weakly over to a payphone. I slid into the booth and leaned heavily against in, my stomach doing flips. I rested my head on the cool glass, overly aware of how nice it felt against my clammy skin.

I dialed the only number I knew better than my own.

On the fifth ring, I heard someone pick up, their voice frantic.

"Hello?"

"Darry?" I asked weakly. I slid to the floor of the booth, cradling the phone against my ear. "What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong. Steve told me where you went. Why the _fuck_ are you in New York? Are you crazy?" his tone made my headache even worse.

"Stop yelling," I begged. "I had to…" I felt my stomach turn again. "I had to repay a debt."

"What does that even mean?" he demanded, his done desperate. "Kit, you've been gone for over two weeks, you realize that, right?"

I thought back. It didn't seem like I was gone that long. Had I really lost track of time?

"The last time you checked in was weeks ago, we thought you were dead!" his voice hitched. "Steve and Soda were a day away from stealing my truck and driving across the country to find you!"

"I ain't dead," I whispered. I felt like I was going to pass out. "Darry…we'll be home in a couple days. We're in Ohio now. I…I need to sleep before we go any further."

"We?!" Darry demanded. "Who's with you? Why do you sound so outta it? What the hell happened?"

"Brooklyn," I whispered. I felt my eyes flutter. "Dally had a sister." The line went dead as my time ran out. I groaned and sat there, cradling the phone against my ear until I felt the cold blast of air come from someone opening the door to the booth.

"Golly, Kit, you look like dead. C'mon, let's get you cleaned up and let's sleep." Brooklyn reached for me, helping me to my feet, her eyes full of worry. "You're burning up."

"I'm fine," I mumbled as we made our way over to the bathroom. She pushed me inside, tossing the laundry bag from the car on the floor before leaning against the door to keep it shut since the lock was busted.

"Change. Then we'll try to figure out how we can both sleep," she said, her tone sharp. I glanced up at her and realized in that moment that while she was only 15, she was wise beyond her years.

I changed slowly, struggling with my bad leg. I carefully pealed back the bandage and swore softly. The wound was oozing green and yellow pus and the flesh around the edges had turned a nasty shade of purple. I replaced the bandage then quickly slipped into the pair of sweatpants that were the only thing that I hadn't worn yet. I ran my hands through my hair, pushing it back as best I could before using the toilet, not the least bit concerned that Brooklyn stood there watching my every move.

"You need a hospital," she noted as she watched me sway when I went to wash my hands. "You're really sick."

"Not till we get home," I said, my tone broken and pleading. I looked up at her in time to see her shake her head.

"Fine, but only 'cause I don't wanna be stranded here," she resigned. I nodded and together, with her basically dragging me, we made it back to the car. Once there, she pushed everything she could to one side and lowered me into the backseat, pulling the blanket tightly around me, before she slipped into the passenger seat and propped her feet on the dashboard.

"I heard you say you were repaying a debt?" she said softly. "What debt?"

"Dally saved my brothers," I said. She didn't need to know that only Kip was blood. Ponyboy and Johnny were just as much my blood as Kipper was. "So I saved you."

At that, my eyes fluttered shut as the fever spiked, sending me spiraling into an endless cycle of restless sleep and terrifying nightmares.


	12. Chapter 12

When I woke next, I was overly aware of something wet and warm sliding across my face. I groaned and opened my eyes, snapping them shut quickly against the bright sunlight. I felt around blindly, overly aware that I felt fur, as well as a heavy weight on my good leg. I groaned and sat up slowly, letting my eyes adjust to my surroundings. That was when my eyes settled on the pair of puppies staring at me with eager eyes.

"Brooklyn!" I hollered, trying to wiggle out from under the two dogs, causing my leg to ache in the process. "Brooklyn!"

"Golly, calm down would ya? You've been out for almost a whole day," she said, opening the passenger door. The smell of chicken broth hit my nose, making my stomach growl. "Some moronic trucker dumped the pups outta his truck without even stoppin', I couldn't leave 'em to die. 'Sides, they were keepin' you calm. You kept screaming for Dal and whoever Sodapop, Darry, Kipper, Two-Bit, Ponyboy and Johnny are. You were awfully sick there for a while. Almost thought to call for help."

"Shit," I murmured. I sat up slowly, letting the smaller, yellow pup fall onto the floor at my feet. He let out a little yip before wiggling back into my lap, whereas the bigger, black pup just watched me with icy blue eyes.

"Here, eat," she said, pushing the cup of broth towards me. "There's a little diner up a ways. I was going to feed the soup to the pups, but you need it more."

"Thanks," I said, slowly sipping the soup. It made my stomach turn at first, but soon enough, it went down and warmed the icy touch to my skin. "How long you say I was out?"

"Almost a full day. It's prolly 'round 8 at night now," she shrugged, sliding into her seat. "Wasn't gonna wake you up, because you looked like you needed the sleep. You've been runnin' a fever since I met you."

"My leg's infected," I pointed out stubbornly. "We gotta hit the road, I told the guys we'd be home tomorrow…"

"Yeah, we ain't gonna make it to Tulsa by tomorrow. Unless you drive straight through," she shrugged. "It's a 13-hour drive."

"I drove 14 straight already, if we leave now, we can get there before noon," I pointed out. "Let the pups out then let's load up and get goin'."

She nodded and opened the back door, shooing both of the pups out of the car. I threw what was pulled out of the laundry bag back in before sliding out of the car, my leg burning something fierce when I put weight on it. I felt unstable and my stomach felt like it was going to expel the broth at any moment, but I swallowed down the bile and forced myself to limp towards the front of the car. I lifted the hood and checked the engine, making sure everything looked right. The oil was a little low but I made a mental note to stop for more when we reached Oklahoma. I used the gas can I had in the trunk to refill the tank before giving a slight nod of approval. Despite Steve's concerns, it seemed like the car was going to make it after all.

Once the dogs were done using the bathroom, I told Brooklyn to secure them on the floor in the back, using pieces of cloth to tie them down. Last thing I needed was one of them trying to get in the front seat while I was driving. Once secure, I gave Brooklyn a nod and we both piled into the car in silence.

After an hour of driving in silence, Brooklyn finally looked at me and asked, "So…who were all those people you were calling for in your sleep? Tell me about them, the way you called for them…they sounded nice."

I spared a glance in her direction before nodding slowly. I took a deep breath and smiled softly, my mind going back to the people I loved most.

"Darry's the oldest of our group," I said softly, "Me and him are only a year or so apart. He's 20 and works his ass off to keep his brothers together. They lost their parents last year and ever since he's been the constant for those boys," I smiled at the thought. Darry was a really great guy, under all the stress and bitterness. "Then there's Two-Bit. He's almost 19 and a real character. He's probably the funniest guy I know." I glanced at the map out of the corner of my eye before making a hasty turn. "Then there woulda been Dally, but you know him already."

"Tell me about Dally. I wish I knew him like you do," she said, her eyes glossy with emotion.

"Dallas Winston was the thorn in my side, the flame to my match," I whispered. I felt my heart ache as I looked back at all the years I knew Dally. "Dally was fierce and fearless and ruthless. He hated the world in ways none of us understood. He chased an early grave and when he fell into my arms and shuddered his last breath, he took a huge part of my heart with him. I owe him my life and then some."

She gave my hand a squeeze before nodding, her eyes twinkling.

"Sounds like Dal did right by you," she said softly.

I nodded my head before thinking about the rest of our gang.

"Then there's Steve. Steve's almost 18 and honestly, one of the toughest people I know," I said softly, "His eyes are dark, but his light hair is always in complicated curls. He's stubborn and strong and angry all the time, but he's got that way about him. He's got that soft streak that most people don't get to see. He's Soda's best friend. Which brings me to Sodapop. He's Darry's middle brother. He's almost 17 and movie-star handsome. He's got sandy blonde hair and bright, loving eyes. He's always happy." I smiled warmly as I thought about Soda. Soda was a diamond in the rough, but he was probably the best guy I knew.

"What about Johnny? And Kip? You called for them a lot," Brooklyn mused. "You kept saying you were sorry."

"Johnny was Ponyboy's best friend and Kip was my brother. They're both dead," I said softly. I couldn't bring myself to describe them. Losing them was harder than losing Dally. Neither one of them wanted to die. I closed my eyes for a moment before sucking in a deep breath.

"Then there's Ponyboy. He's everyone's little brother, but he's the youngest Curtis brother," I said softly, my voice cracking. "Pony is smart and kind and way too good to be a greaser."

"It sounds like you've got a lot of brothers in your corner," Brooklyn mused. I nodded my head and let the conversation lapse. I found myself lost in thought as we drove for what felt like a lifetime.

* * *

We made it just over state lines before I felt the car starts to jerk every time I hit the break. I knew what that meant. I remembered back to Steve telling me that the brakes weren't completely fixed yet. I glanced at the map Brooklyn was holding to verify where we were. We were just outside of Windrixville. I knew if we could reach the small town, we'd only have a few hours left to go.

"How long left?" Brooklyn asked, watching me study the map, keeping one eye on the road.

"Probably another two or three hours. When Dally and I drove up here before, he took all the back roads so it took almost 4 hours," I said softly. "If we stick to the high way it shouldn't be as long."

"Good. I'm tired of being cramped in here," Brooklyn scoffed. She had the yellow pup in her lap, the black one curled up at her feet.

"Yeah, me too," I said. My head was pounding and the ache in my leg was worse than ever. I didn't want to scare her, but I wasn't sure if I could keep driving. My vision kept blurring. But I wanted to get us home without any more pit stops. We were already a day behind.

I let my foot hit the gas and sped up a little. We had to get back on the high way if we wanted to make it home before the end of the night. Windrixville wasn't a big place and I knew it wouldn't take long to reach the high way.

What I hadn't been anticipating was a big rig trying to pass on the narrow, dirt road.

"Kit! Look out!" Brooklyn screamed. I slammed on the breaks, but nothing happened.

"Hold on!" I cried as I threw my right arm in front of her to keep her in place and swerved hard to the right, narrowly avoiding the massive truck. I felt the car jerk and the sound of metal on metal filled my ears.

My head jerked forward and the lost conscious thought I had was that Steve was going to skin me for crashing his car.


	13. Chapter 13

"Wake up! Kit, you have to wake up," I vaguely heard a voice urging. "Come on Kit! Wake up!"

"Urgh," I moaned. I tried to lift my head but a wave of nausea caused me to slam my eyes shut again. "We're even Dally," I murmured. I kept my eyes closed but I could feel him there. I could feel Dally pulling me towards him in a warm hug, something so un-Dally-like I almost didn't want to believe it, but the warmth enveloped me and before I could fight it, I was sinking into his arms, his face pressed roughly into the top of my head.

"_You did good, Kitten,"_ he whispered. "_You did real good."_

"Please! Kit, wake up!"

I groaned again and let my body relax. I was done. I had no fight left. I sank into Dally's arms, no longer remembering that he was dead. For a split moment, I wondered if I was dying, but the calm that washed over me was so welcoming, so warm, I couldn't fight it any longer. Then I felt my little brother's hand wrap around mine, his soft fingers drawing circles in my rough, scarred skin.

"_You can rest now, Kit, it's over," _Kipper's voice whispered. "_You're safe now."_

* * *

"She's not going to die, is she?" Brooklyn asked while she watched the doctor's cart Kit off the surgery. She was standing beside Soda, who was holding her hand to keep her grounded. "She's going to be okay?"

"We're going to do everything we can," the doctor assured her. "The ball's in her court."

Brooklyn sighed heavily and slowly made her way over to the chairs. Darry, Sodapop, Steve, Two-Bit and Ponyboy were all gathered in the waiting room. They had come as soon as the fuzz called them. Thankfully, Brooklyn had made it out of the accident with only minor scratches and both pups were absolutely fine. They were currently locked in Darry's truck while the rest waited for an updated.

"She drove all the way to New York to get you?" Darry asked for the millionth time. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact. "Did she even know you existed?"

No one had known Dally had a little sister. He never talked about her.

"She was trying to find our mom," Brooklyn explained. "She found me instead."

"Aren't you a bit young to be runnin' away?" Steve grumbled. Brooklyn couldn't tell what bothered him more, the fact that his car was in rough shape or the fact that Kit was really badly hurt.

"I'm fifteen," she said stubbornly. "My mom cut me loose when I was ten. I'm more 'en old enough to be on my own."

Steve snorted then returned his attention to a spot on the floor. He wouldn't tell anyone, but he was worried about Kit. Seeing her so fragile and weak had scared the daylights outta him. He wasn't used to her needing help. Kit was stronger than all of them combined. Seeing her so helpless made him wonder if even Superman had a breaking point.

"She saved me," Brooklyn said softly. "She said she owed my brother."

Everyone turned to look at her, their eyes all showing different emotions. Darry looked worried, Steve looked bitter, Soda looked sad, Two-Bit looked confused and Ponyboy just looked crushed. She sighed heavily and leaned against the far wall, a weed hanging out her mouth while she thought back to the crash. How Kit threw her arm in front of her to keep her from flying forward, causing herself to crash her head painfully into the steering wheel. She remembered the pups yelping and crying and how she had to force the door open, only to realize that the car was in rough shape. She remembered tying both pups to the door before trying everything in her power to get Kit to wake up.

She remembered someone calling an ambulance and how she struggled to remember the number to the Curtis's house. Kit had only told her it once. She remembered begging the fuzz to let her ride with Kit, but they insisted that she rode in an ambulance on her own. She remembered vaguely asking where they'd take the car, so she could tell Steve.

She remembered feeling like it was all her fault. She knew Kit was in no shape to drive. She should have stopped her.

"Hey, you okay?" Soda asked as he came over to stand beside her. He looked at her with troubled eyes. "You're swaying."

"I'm fine," she said softly. "Just worried, ya know? Kit's gonna have a cow when she realizes she nearly totaled his car," she added as she motioned towards Steve. "She really didn't mean to."

"Steve knows that," Soda said, shooting his best friend a knowing look. "Besides, hitting a tree is better than hitting a big rig."

"I'm not worried about my car," Steve murmured, coming to stand next to Soda. "I'm worried about Kit. She looked really messed up."

"She'd been sick the whole time," Brooklyn murmured, her voice hitching.

"What do you mean?" Darry asked. He had known something sounded off when she called, but he had no idea how bad it was.

"She had a fever and could barely keep food down. She kept saying she was fine, that it was just because of her leg being infected, but golly, she was so sickly looking. She slept almost a whole 24 hours before we finally hit the final stretch to get here. She's really bad," Brooklyn whispered. "I knew I should have had her pull over and let me call for help…I knew…" she broke down in tears. Her shoulders trembled as she tried to fight back tears. Brooklyn didn't cry. She wasn't the emotional type. But in the short time she'd known Kit, she had grown to admire the older girl and look up to her. She didn't have a strong family support growing up, and even just a few days with Kit had made her feel safe and like she belonged.

"She's gonna be okay, you'll see," Soda said reassuringly. Soda pulled the younger girl in for a hug and smoothed her messy hair back. "Kit's strong. She's going to be okay."

"How can you be so sure?" Brooklyn sniffed, her face buried in his chest.

"Because I've known her my entire life," he said softly. "She'll die for her family, but she sure as hell won't die for herself. She's too damn stubborn."

That earned a soft chuckle from Two-Bit.

"He's right, kid, Kit's got a lion's heart. She'll pull through this," he said. "She's stronger than all us guys put together."

"You didn't see her," Brooklyn whispered. "You…"

"For Jo-Anna Beth Stevenson?" a male's voice broke into their conversation. Everyone turned to see a doctor wearing a grim expression waiting for them to respond. Everyone was on their feet a moment later.

"Are all of you family?" he asked sternly. Everyone nodded.

"Sit down," he motioned, a chart in his hands.

Once everyone was seated, the doctor took a deep breath and turned his attention to Darry, seeming to realize that he was the oldest and calmest of the group.

"Jo-Anna suffered multiple injuries in the accident but none as severe as the infection in her right leg," he said calmly. "We had to cut away the infection as well as some of the muscle that was effected. While she should regain use of the leg, she's going to have a long, painful road to recovery. She also suffered a concussion, a fractured wrist and multiple lacerations and bruises in the wreck. Overall, I'd say she is extremely lucky. We have her on a strong antibiotic right now to fight off the rest of the infection but she should be waking up soon. I reckon y'all would like to see her?"

"Can we?" Soda asked eagerly.

"Under normal circumstances I'd only let two in at a time, but I know your lot. You aren't going to wait your turn, so s'long as you don't overwhelm her, y'all are all more than welcomed to go on in," he nodded. Brooklyn shuffled where she stood, not entirely sure if she should follow the gang back.

"C'mon, she likes you," Soda said, glancing over his shoulder. "Let's go see her!"

* * *

They didn't stay long, seeing Kit hooked to different wires and her face as white as the sheets she laid on caused them all to feel uneasy. Despite Soda and Ponyboy trying to convince him otherwise, eventually Darry told everyone it was better if they went home – that Kit needed her rest.

For the next month, Kit was in and out of consciousness, her body being ransacked by the fever and infection. Sometimes she was lucid and could carry a conversation, other times she was in a delirious state, talking to people only she could see.

Over those four weeks, Brooklyn had been taken in by the gang, crashing in the room that Kit once shared with Kipper. She managed to score a job down at the local supermarket, which helped pay the bills that never seemed to stop coming in.

Steve managed to fix up his car, after spending a week trying to track it down. He wasn't even angry anymore. He just wanted Kit to get better. The house felt empty without her.

Pony, now fully recovered from his own illness, was slowly but surely getting back into the swing of things. His grades had dropped dramatically, but he was doing the best he could, while trying to cope with the loss of three of their friends.

Soda was working longer at the DX, helping Darry come up with money to pay off not only Ponyboy's medical bills, but Kit's as well. The last thing he wanted was her coming home and having to worry about bills she'd never be able to pay off.

Two-Bit actually got a real job. For the first time in his life, stepping up into the adult world as a working, contributing adult.

Darry agreed to let the two pups stay, on the condition that Soda, Ponyboy and Brooklyn looked after them. They were given names that fit their personalities perfectly; Greaser for the bigger, darker pup, and Knick-Knack for the smaller, golden pup. Ponyboy couldn't have been happier with the newest additions.

And Darry? Darry had the biggest changes over that four-week span. He went easier on Ponyboy, finally starting to understand and listen to his youngest brother. Nearly losing him, then losing Kip, Johnny and Dally had softened him up. He still gave Ponyboy grief about his grades and scolded him when necessary, but he wasn't as hard as him, as par Soda's request. The three had grown to understand one another in ways they never thought possible.

Brooklyn had something to do with that. She became the little sister the three of them needed, a common person who needed brothers to protect her. Even though she was as hard and careless as Dally had been, she was still a girl, and she was still fragile. She wasn't like Kit, who was able to hold her own, she hadn't grown up in Tulsa. While New York City had taught her how to be street smart, she didn't know the city like the guys did.

After a long and trying month, Kit's fever finally broke and she was finally well enough to go home. But the doctor warned them that it would take months for her to fully recover. While the infection was gone, the damage to her leg was ever present and only time would tell if she'd recover fully.

"We've been through hell and back, yet we always stick together," Kit said after Darry helped her get situated on the couch late her first night home. "Want to know something funny?"

"What's that?" Darry asked, wrapping the old afghan around her thin, fragile frame.

"Dally didn't know nothin' about lovin' anyone, but he was right about one thing," she said, her eyes fluttering shut as she got comfortable. "He knew what it meant to be loyal and stickin' things out till the end. Dally went through hell and back for us and in the end, Dallas Winston got what he wanted."

Darry mused over her words as he wandered into the kitchen to finish organizing the bills. He couldn't help but smile at the thought.

"No," he said aloud to no one in particular. "It's you Kit, it's all you." Darry knew that they had a long road ahead of them. Everyone was still grieving in their own ways, but he knew deep in his heart that with the gang by his side, they would all be able to come back from this. They could do anything as long as they stuck it out together.

"We're Greasers," he said, patting the dark pup who was patiently sitting at his side. "We know it's rough all over, we just know how to get on with our lives."

When Darry made his way back into the living room later that night, he wasn't the least bit surprised at what he saw. Kit was lying on the couch, her head in Steve's lap, one hand resting on Soda's arm. Soda was sleeping on the floor, half leaned against the couch, his right arm resting on Steve's lap, giving Kit an angle to grip it. Brooklyn was on the other end of the couch, Kit's feet propped in her lap, her arms draped over her protectively. Ponyboy was curled painfully into Soda's side on the floor, while Two-Bit was stretched out in the armchair. Knick-Knack was asleep on his lap, while Greaser followed at Darry's side.

Darry considered waking everyone up and ushering them to more comfortable sleeping arrangements, but he didn't have the heart to move them. Instead, he leaned against the couch and stretched out next to his brothers. Somehow, it just felt right. Everyone camped out in the living room like they had so many times before. Darry smiled to himself as his eyes closed, Greaser crawling into his lap, his warm, dark fur providing Darry with just the right amount of comfort and warmth.

For that night, for that one, simple night, everything seemed right in the world. The bills would be there tomorrow. The troubles and chaos and uncertain futures would all still be there. But in that moment, there was a calm that the gang hadn't felt in what seemed like a very long time. That night, everyone slept peacefully for the first time in months. Because they had each other and they were safe.

* * *

_A/N: I decided to end this story on a high note, because the sequel will be even more bitter sweet. Let me know what you think and keep your eyes out! Part 2 of this little saga will be up before you know it!_


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